The Magic Between Us
by Danyal
Summary: Elf-mage Virae Surana tries to live by the principle 'What you send returns three times over', but she has betrayed her friend, Jowan, and is responsible for the consequences, whatever they may be. Explores what it's like to be a mage in Ferelden.
1. Chapter 1

This will be the first story I have ever written.

Fem/Elf/Mage Origin. I will mostly skip the main plot events in the game, and assume that if anyone else ever reads this, they've already played through the game. I want to explore the backstory living in my imagination when I was playing the game, and the relationships between a mostly optimistic Warden and companions who may or may not be that comfortable around magic.

By way of disclaimer – I may be having a sordid affair with Dragon Age, but it Belongs to Bioware:-)

* * *

**Chapter 1: Leaving the Circle**

Virae Surana gazed back at the Circle Tower, blanketed in the misty grey of pre-dawn. She heard and felt the paddles plunge into the water, the rhythmic movement of the boat taking her away from the life she knew and her home of nearly ten years.

The view hadn't changed much since the last time she had seen it from a boat. It still looked huge and imposing. In many ways she felt oddly similar to the child she had been, leaving behind a disturbing tragedy, looking forward to a new life, and a new adventure.

Three nights ago the event that every apprentice looked forward to with equal measures of anticipation and dread had finally happened to her – her harrowing. What really happened during the harrowing was a big secret, of course, but every apprentice knew they could die. The reality turned out to be far worse than Virae had ever imagined. Blessed Creator, they intentionally put a demon in her! She let the faces of the many apprentices she'd known who'd disappeared in the night, and never returned, float before her eyes.

Virae understood why the Templers did it, and why First Enchanter Irving cooperated with them. The Chantry suspiciously regarded all mages as potential abominations. If mages weren't so useful, she thought, the Chantry would simply kill them all.

The water on the lake was smooth, marred only by the ripples of the boat's passage. She followed the pattern of the wake as far as she could see, and imagined the ripples traveling all the way across the lake to Redcliffe. Her mentor, Aaron, had been fond of analogies involving drops of water on a lake. Virae wondered what he would have said about her actions of the last few days. Leaning over the side of the boat, she caught her diffracted reflection. Large green eyes in an elven face, auburn hair pulled up into a tight bun, her pointed ears that stuck out even when her hair was loose. The face of someone who betrayed her friend, she thought.

And now Templers were hunting that friend. She recalled the look on Jowan's face when she confessed what she'd done, and felt a fresh wave of guilt and regret. How she wished that Aaron was still alive, and that she could have gone to him for advice when Jowan revealed his plan and asked for her help. Virae had believed that Irving would know what was best, and she had gone along with his deception for "the good of the circle". Obviously that had gone terribly wrong. Virae wanted to blame Irving, but she knew it was her own fault. She thought of the two guiding principle Mamae taught her, that she tried to live by: '_What you send returns three times over_', and 'harm none'. She had betrayed Jowan, and she was responsible for the consequences, whatever they may be.

The sky above the Tower was getting lighter, and at this distance she could just make out the huge oak tree that stood at the edge of the grassy area set aside for the Circle children to play… her favorite place on the island. It was her habit to watch the sun rise from under that tree, gazing at the beautiful view across Lake Calenhad. When the children woke, their laughter would fill the air, an inspiring affirmation for Virae of the resilience in their souls, and the wonder and joy in the world.

Most mages began showing their powers around the age of seven or eight. So successful was the Chantry in their general and targeted slander of everything magic that even otherwise good parents would abandon such a child at the nearest Chantry immediately. That was the best case scenario. Most children arriving at the Tower, escorted by grim Templers, had been severely mistreated and traumatized by a world that hated and feared them.

At nine, Virae was older than most children brought to the Tower crèche - she and her mother had succeeded in hiding her magic for over two years. After she became an apprentice, Virae dedicated as much free time as possible to helping newly arrived children adjust to their new life. Unlike most older Tower inhabitants, she listened to their stories with rapt attention and compassion, and without judgment. She had a knack for getting the children to open up to her, and an instinct for identifying what they needed to help them recover from whatever ordeals had brought them to the tower. Taking one last look at the tower she realized the oak tree was no longer visible. The children would be getting up soon, and for the first time in years, she wouldn't be there to greet them.

With a sigh she brushed a loose strand of hair out of her face and turned away from the tower to face the Grey Warden commander sitting across the boat from her. The Tower library included many accounts of the last four Blights and of how the legendary Grey Wardens had saved Thedas each time. Duncan seemed like the very epitome of everything a Grey Warden was supposed to be - charismatic, powerful, strong, noble, confident, and with a consuming single mindedness of purpose. Somehow just his presence instilled her with faith that this new Blight would end quickly, with this imposing human leading the Grey Wardens of Ferelden.

Only a week ago she had been a hopeful apprentice, looking forward to her harrowing, and the small increase in freedom, as well as responsibility, that she would possess as a mage of the tower. A life in a gilded cage had been spread out before her. Another decade spent training in the healing arts, convincing the Templers that she could be trusted outside of the Tower, and she might get out on a short leash to take an assignment as a healer at an Arling or Chantry. A small group of senior mages were already at Ostagar, sent to assist King Cailan. And now, here she was, a Grey Warden recruit free of the tower forever.

Well, free from Templers anyway. She would be bound to the Grey Wardens. Duncan had been rather obviously vague on the particulars of becoming a Grey Warden. Ah, at least I don't have to put up with Cullen anymore she thought with a relieved grimace. He had arrived at the tower a few months after she had, a newly ordained Templer. Most Templers simply stared at their charges through a helmet, but Cullen had taken an interest in her, and made a point of asking her about her life before the tower, her studies, her favorite foods even, and in those early years she had thought of him as her friend.

That friendship changed as she got older and her mage training advanced. She started feeling uncomfortable around Cullen, and would catch him staring at her with a mixture of longing and repulsion. He took his Templer duties to extremes, watching her very closely all the time.

While the rest of the older apprentices and junior mages engaged in a variety of… personal encounters, Cullen's close scrutiny had thwarted her every attempt to indulge personally. Eventually the situation became something of a joke among Virae's male peers, who would antagonize Cullen by flirting with her outrageously right in front of him. Usually the result was that Virae was watched even more closely, and whilst she was good naturedly impersonating a decoy, her friends enjoyed themselves without interruption. Especially Alain.

Virae wondered what her friend Alain was doing right now, and what she would say when she heard what happened with Jowan. The three of them were inseparable as children, and together they had shared numerous real and imagined adventures. Alain's harrowing was a year ago, and since then she had been working with a skilled, but elderly, midwife healer. Alain and the old mage had left for Amaranthine two weeks ago to help a noble woman give birth, and weren't expected back for at least another fortnight.

In the last couple years, the threesome had drifted apart. Jowan's interests had tended toward battle magic, whilst Virae and Alain's interests had been in healing magic, so it wasn't surprising. But, since Alain's harrowing, Jowan had been even more distant from them, and now Virae knew why.

As the boat neared the dock the sun rose over the horizon. The sky was a spectacular clear blue, and the air was full of song birds voicing their joy for the beginning of a new day. Virae stepped onto the shore and out of the way as Duncan organized their departure. With an uncertain sigh, she closed her eyes and tipped her face toward the rising sun.

* * *

There will be dialogue in the next chapter...

I included a reference to the "three-fold law" and Wiccan Rede.

A note about the name "Virae". There is a character named Virae in the book _Legend_, by David Gemmell, one of my favorite books ever. I named my in-game PC Virae, and when I started writing this story I intended to use a different name. But then she kind of took on a life of her own, and I decided "Virae" could have an appropriate meaning in the Elvish language of Dragon Age. More about that when she gets to the Brecilian Forest.


	2. Chapter 2

_Virae is pronounced VEER-ay_

_I don't have a Beta Reader, but would like to._

* * *

**Chapter 2: Duncan and Virae on the road to Ostagar**

Duncan and his newest recruit set out for Ostagar just after dawn that morning. He'd been lucky to find a pack horse to carry their few belongings, but as horses were rare in Ferelden, they would have to walk. Although Duncan appreciated the creature comforts of a roof over his head, a soft bed, and a warm bath, he was most comfortable on the road. He was also relieved to have found another recruit, especially a mage. The few days or so of hard walking would be a good start to her training.

Virae was holding a handful of flowers and plants she had picked along the road. Watching her gather the bouquet had been strangely amusing, she'd rush ahead and gather each addition with childlike delight, and then carefully examine every part of it, rubbing a piece between her fingers and smelling it, and even tasting some of them.

Virae looked back at Duncan, her eyes pensive. He looked down at her with the hint of a smile playing about his mouth, "You have more questions, recruit." It wasn't a question, it was a statement of fact.

Virae brushed a tendril of hair away from her face and nodded thoughtfully, "I was wondering what it's like to meet darkspawn in battle."

"Haven't you read the book I gave you about the different types of darkspawn?" He said disapprovingly.

"Yes, umm," she looked up and her eyes became unfocused as she said "Genlock. These are the most common darkspawn in the underground. Stocky and Tough, genlocks are notoriously difficult to kill, even by magic. Alphas. In any group of genlocks, there is usually one who is dominant. As the tallest, strongest, and smartest of their kind, alphas serve as a sort of commander, directing or bullying the others in combat..."(1)

Duncan was surprised, "you memorized it already?"

"Well, ah…" suddenly the look on her face was guarded. She looked away and began twisting the bouquet of herbs in her hands, then she tipped her head and looked at him sideways "but… you know… reading about darkspawn, that's not the same as coming face-to-face with darkspawn, and I hoped you would tell me about some of your experiences?"

Duncan knew stalling when he heard it, and decided now was as good a time as any to find out more about the talent Irving had hinted at.

"Virae", Duncan said severely, "The first enchanter mentioned that you possess a gifted memory. He said your ability could be very useful to the Grey Wardens and that you would explain how it works".

She sighed nervously, the herbs turning to pulp in her hands. "It's just that I'm used to hiding it… "

Duncan smiled encouragingly. "Go on".

"Did Irving also say that I was accused of being possessed by a demon and the Chantry wanted me executed when the Reverend Mother found out about my so-called 'gift'?" Virae asked.

Duncan paused for a moment, considering his next words, "You will be a Grey Warden first, and a Circle Mage second. You must never forget that the Grey Wardens will do anything, sacrifice anything, accept help from anywhere, to end a Blight. That is the core of what it means to be a Grey Warden. Any useful ability you have will be accepted and utilized."

Duncan watched her face as she absorbed his words. The creases in her forehead smoothed, and her shoulders relaxed, "That would be a..," she smiled, "… a welcome change, Duncan." She looked down at her hands and tossed the herb pulp to the side of the road. "Well, in a way, it's kind of simple. I remember everything. Perfectly."

"Like the darkspawn book I gave you?" Duncan asked.

"Books are the easiest. My old mentor, Aaron, helped me with putting words to what I do so I could explain it to others. When I pick up a new book, I go over each page, making a sort of copy of it in my mind, and then visualize putting the book on a shelf in a library I keep inside my head. In my mind I can open the book and read from it anytime, just as though the book is physically in front of me again."

"How many books are in this mental library of yours?" Duncan asked thoughtfully.

"Since I came to the Circle, I have acquired all of the books in the Circle library and archive, the Chantry, personal collections held in the storage caves, and ah", Virae paused and looked sheepishly at Duncan, "a few other books that I sort of came across". When Duncan didn't comment she added, "most of the books in the Denerim market Chantry were duplicates to the Chantry here, but there were a few books in the Alienage, and also I snuck into the library at a Denerim Estate where my aunt worked."

"And you understand everything you've read in these books?" Duncan asked.

"No, no... It's not the same as reading and understanding. I see the book in my mind as perfectly as if it were right in front of me, but it could be in a language I don't know, or a subject I don't understand. Some of the first books I ever collected this way were written in Orlesian. I understand them now because I've acquired an Orlesian - Ferelden dictionary and I've made the effort to learn how to read the language, but at the time I was only five and didn't understand the content at all."

"I see. But… so much information must be… overwhelming. How can you make use of it?"

"Aaron helped me a lot with that. Once I started picturing the books I had collected as being stored in a library, I began sorting them much like the library in the Tower. Aaron helped me develop methods to cross-reference and find information quickly. I've recently been practicing a skill to find connections between information even when I'm not holding it in my immediate consciousness, sort of like intuition. But, I don't know the contents of a book unless I've read it in much the same way as anyone else."

"I knew Aaron. A brilliant scholar, and an expert in what little humans known about ancient Elven civilization. Last time I saw him he was trying to get support for an expedition into the deep roads to find some lost elven lore. I'm surprised he was still training apprentices", said Duncan.

"The Chantry rejected his expedition proposal, of course they see no value in a culture they're still trying to eradicate. He died last year. I really miss him." Virae smiled sadly and said, "I'm lucky Aaron agreed to accept me. When I first arrived at the tower I thought my strange memory was part of my mage ability, so I didn't hide it. My first mentor was convinced that I was cheating. Newly arrived children come from a variety of educational backgrounds, and I was given test after test to determine what I knew. When I got perfect scores on every test, she got first enchanter Kramer involved in trying to figure out how I was cheating. He helped prove that I wasn't cheating, but then he decided I must be possessed by some spirit that was helping me. That's when Reverend Mother Sprenger got involved and tried to have me executed." She shook her head pensively, "I was nine years old and had been at the Tower for only a month."

Duncan said, "That must have been a frightening experience."

Virae nodded, "Yeah." She took a shaky breath, "The First Enchanter and the Reverend Mother argued for days about whether or not I could be allowed to live, until Senior Enchanter Aaron got involved. He convinced them that my ability had nothing to do with magic, but was simply a product of my Dalish heritage, a skill developed by the elven story tellers. I'm not sure he ever really believed that, but at least the Chantry was persuaded that I wasn't possessed. I was the first apprentice Aaron accepted in over fifteen years. And his last. Aaron made such a difference in my life. He helped me understand the way that others think and remember, so I could blend in. Aaron was a wonderful teacher, and worked out a course of study for me that didn't rely on memorization, but instead emphasized understanding, and insight."

"Dalish heritage? Irving said you were raised in the Denerim alienage."

"That's true but… my father was Dalish. My mother was an herbalist, and she lived for several years with a Dalish clan. She returned to the alienage before I was born." She cleared her throat and looked away.

They walked in companionable silence, Duncan deep in thought about how best to make use of his new recruit and this gift of hers. He looked up when Virae suddenly dashed ahead and fairly pounced on a patch of yellow flowers. As she turned to him with the blossoms pressed to her face, Duncan asked the question that had been on his mind ever since he had met the young elf. "Most elves I've known are mistrustful of humans", he said, "but you seem surprisingly comfortable".

Virae shrugged, "In the tower, elves are mostly treated the same as humans. There are many more humans than elves, of course. And mages that live outside of the Circle for any length of time sometimes bring back… prejudices." She laughed cynically, "But, human or elf, we are all despised by the chantry equally."

"But, if you're talking about elves in the alienage, then mistrust is putting it mildly." She snorted, "I might have gone with loathe, or detest… and oh yes, fear." She shook her head thoughtfully, "The alienage is a very close-knit community. When an elven man is murdered, a woman raped, a child beaten, simply because they are elves… that pain, that anger, is deeply personal for all of us. Survivors of mistreatment by humans are usually not… judged by the community. Every individual has a responsibility to protect the community and not to draw unwanted attention from Sh- Humans. It is a tragedy not only that humans mistreat elves, but that this anger at humans has become a part of who we are as elves."

Virae brushed the stray strands of hair from her eyes, "I had a good childhood in the alienage... I grew up among people who cared about me. Mamae kept my magic a secret, but she loved me just the way I was. She knew that someday the Chantry would take me away to the Circle, and together we cherished every moment we had together. So many mage children arrive at the Circle with very different experiences."

"I didn't… personally… have bad experiences with humans. Not until "Virae's voice caught in her throat, "the… day Mamae died, that is. She kept me away from them as much as possible. She even kept my hair short and dressed me like a boy most of the time." Virae grimaced.

But Duncan sensed there was more this new recruit hadn't shared. "Irving told me how you were discovered", Duncan said, "He said your mother was killed in front of you by a group of humans, and you tried to protect her with magic." When Virae shrugged and looked away Duncan continued, "And that is why I am curious that I sense no hatred of humans in you."

Virae stopped walking, and her eyes became unfocused. "I could have killed them, you know." She paused for several long moments, then took a deep breath, "I didn't because her last words to me were 'if you kill them, you will become like them, full of hate.' Look Duncan," she turned and faced him, her glittering clear green eyes meeting his dark piercing gaze for several long seconds, "The humans that killed my mother are not _all_ humans. There _are_ good humans. There are _bad_ elves. Both evil and good reside in the hearts of individuals, irrespective of their race. It is up to each to choose what to do with the life the Creator has given them."

Duncan nodded with satisfaction, "That is a very important lesson to learn, one that will serve you well as a Grey Warden. Aaron taught you well."

"Aaron was the first truly good human I ever knew, and he was the closest thing I ever had to a father. But," and Virae gave Duncan a searching look "that lesson was taught to me by my mother." After holding Duncan's gaze another few seconds, Virae turned and resumed the long walk.

They walked in silence again for another few miles, then Duncan asked, "You said books are the easiest to, um, acquire. What else do you remember?"

"Everything." She paused," I can repeat every conversation I've ever heard word for word. I don't have much skill with drawing, but given time I could recreate a picture of anything I've ever seen. I can remember every event of my life like it was a play happening in front of me." She paused for several moments, and Duncan watched an array of conflicting emotions washed over her beautiful young face. "As I understand it, most people's memories fade with time. They remember fragments of fact, intense emotions, smells, trivial details. Some even manage to change the way they remember the past, convince themselves a horror never happened, or a tragedy wasn't their fault. That's where that saying 'time heals all wounds' comes from, I think. But, that doesn't work for me, because" she sighed sadly, "I can never forget."

* * *

After a few days on the road, Virae had already become very fond of Duncan. He reminded her of Aaron in so many ways. She imagined Aaron's reaction to being compared to such a warrior and smiled. She still had many more questions for Duncan, but since it appeared that her training would continue for months or even years, she expected to have plenty of time to ask them. The closer they got to Ostagar, the more distracted Duncan became. Occasionally he would just stop walking for no apparent reason, as though he was listening for something.

Duncan remarked that they were less than an hour's walk from the ancient fort. All around them was evidence of the imminent presence of an army, from trampled grass to discarded trash. Still there was one question left that burned in Virae's mind, one thing she had to say to Duncan whilst they were still alone.

Virae had gone over every piece of information she had access to that had anything to do with the Grey Wardens and the Blights. One book in particular that had belonged to Irving's predecessor, Arlan, had a slip of paper tucked in it with a list of ingredients used to create a potion. Except for lirium, all of the other ingredients were herbs used to counteract or mitigate poisons. A scribbled notation read 'vial and spell supplied by Wardens'. Virae had compared the look on Duncan's face when he mentioned the other new recruits and when he had mentioned the Joining Ritual in passing. It was the same look the Senior Enchanters, the ones who really cared about their apprentices, wore on their faces when they talked about the Harrowing.

Duncan stopped to drink from his water flask, and Virae did the same. As he started to put it away, she put her hand on his arm. "Duncan?"

His preoccupied expression blended into concern when he looked at her face, "What's wrong Virae?"

Virae swallowed, "How often do recruits die? When they take the joining, I mean."

For a moment the Warden Commander seemed torn between keeping the secret, and admitting the truth. "How did you know?"

"I ah…," Virae's voice was shaky, as the realization that her assumption was correct sunk in, "I just put together everything I know, everything I observed. It's a secret, I understand that… and I…won't tell the others."

"I'm sorry, Virae. There's no way to know who will survive and who won't. Now that you know… I can't let you back out." For a moment, Duncan's face was wretched with regret and sadness.

"Yes, I understand… I really do. Listen Duncan, whatever happens," and she met his eyes, "I know you've done what you had to do... anything to end the Blight." A small, sad smile graced her lips, "That's what Grey Wardens do." She hesitated for a moment, then put her arms around his waist and hugged him.

Duncan awkwardly patted her head, which only came to his stomach. Guileless, intelligent, brave... Maker help me if this one doesn't make it, he thought. Then he hugged her back.

They were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing his throat, and Virae turned to meet the golden King of Ferelden.

* * *

_(1) Quote from Dragon Age in-game codex. (This is supposed to be a footnote.)_

_So hard to choose names for incidental characters, but just for fun I used the names Kramer and Sprenger for the people who thought Virae was possessed, because Heinrich Kramer and Jacob Sprenger were the authors of the Malleus Maleficarum._

_Duncan is one of my favorite characters. Probably because he's my age:-)_


	3. Chapter 3

_Skipping on ahead past Virae's first experience fighting darkspawn in the Korcari Wilds, recovering the treaties, and the tragic battle of Ostagar where Alistair and Virae fight their way to the top of the Tower of Ishal to light the beacon. They have left Flemeth's hut with Morrigan in their party and are headed out of the Korcari wilds toward Lothering…_

**Chapter 3: On the road to Lothering**

Virae looked back at Alistair trudging along behind them - emotionally comatose, a mental zombie.

It was so annoying. He had said hardly a word since they left Flemeth's hut in the Korcari wilds. He barely acknowledged their new Mabari companion, Caraid. Thankfully he woke up to fight beside them when they were attacked by darkspawn. The most annoying thing was that Virae was envious of the way he could just shut down - that and somehow it made her the default leader.

Virae tried to remind herself that even though the events at Ostagar were as indelibly imprinted on her mind as any other experience, she could choose not to think about it, at least for a while. So many people dead, the Grey Wardens of Ferelden all but wiped out, and only the two of them left to stop the Blight. What if they couldn't stop it? What if they couldn't gather all the treaty armies? She just couldn't get her head around it.

The young elf didn't know who was more frustrated with Alistair's unresponsiveness. Herself because she missed her new friend, or Morrigan who's witty barbed comments were going unnoticed by the target. She wondered what it was in particular that Morrigan found so annoying about Alistair. Was it that he had been a Templer? Nothing more irritating than that for sure, but he had actually chosen _not _to be a Templer, and that had to count in his favor.

There could be no denying that Alistair was a brilliant warrior, or that he was classically handsome and athletically built. Traits definitely on the not-annoying side, she thought as she looked back at him appraisingly. His oddly self-deprecating sense of humor was also on hiatus, so that couldn't be what was aggravating Morrigan now.

Virae regarded the witch. At the circle the apprentices had speculated in hushed tones about apostates, but a few weeks ago she never would have imagined that she would meet two of them. Or that one of them could be _the_ Flemeth of legend, and the other would be her companion on the road. To Virae, Morrigan was nothing less than fascinating. Virae had asked her numerous questions about growing up in the wilds with Flemeth as mother and mentor, and Morrigan answered them readily enough. Virae was undeterred by Morrigan's irascible nature, after all, it was unsurprising considering her lack of contact with people.

Virae turned to Morrigan again, "During that fight with the darkspawn this morning, you umm… well, you turned into a bear. That was the most amazing magic I have ever seen."

Morrigan smile was condescending, "Tis wild magic. Shape-shifting. An old magic Flemeth said has never been taught in that tower of yours."

"Is it difficult?" Virae asked excitedly, "could you… I mean would you be willing… to teach me?"

"Tis difficult indeed", said Morrigan thoughtfully. "You must study carefully any animal you wish to become, and much practice is required to maintain the shape. Hmmm…. I have never taught another. I will give this matter some thought."

**

* * *

**Late that afternoon Virae, Morrigan, Alistair, and Caraid came to the edge of the Korcari wilds, and Morrigan shape-shifted into hawk-form to scout ahead. Virae and her remaining two companions were walking past a large fallow field, the elf watching wistfully as hawk-Morrigan wheeled through the air. Abruptly Caraid ran purposefully into the field, startling a grouse, and almost simultaneously the hawk dropped out of the sky and caught it, landing with it on the ground. For one long moment, the mabari and hawk appeared to be at a stand-off, but then Caraid sat on his haunches and gave one short bark. The hawk screeched, then sprang back into the air while Caraid proudly fetched the grouse back to Virae. By the time they made camp that evening, they had two more of the chicken-like birds.

"That grouse was delicious, thank you Morrigan," said Virae, "even I couldn't eat another bite."

Morrigan grumbled "Well, I suppose someone has to teach you how to cook."

"Thank you again, Morrigan. I appreciate it, really. Cooking over a campfire is so different from cooking in a kitchen. I used to help my mother…" Virae was quiet for a moment, then got up and added the ample leftovers to the pile of bones Caraid had already laid claim to, and gathered up the few dishes for washing.

"It's the oaf's turn to wash up", sniffed Morrigan.

Virae opened her mouth to tell Morrigan _one more time_ to leave Alistair alone, but the only sound that came out was an exasperated growl. Virae glanced over at Alistair and his empty plate. Even in his current comatose state, he still retained that Grey Warden appetite.

Without really looking at either of them, Alistair wordlessly got up, took the pile of dishes from Virae and headed for the stream.

"Do the Tower mages have servants, then, preparing meals and the like?" Morrigan asked disdainfully.

Virae hid a slight smile. For all the witch scorned the Tower, she was still curious about it. "Hardly, the Circle is controlled by the Chantry, you know. Everyone, from beginning apprentice to Senior Enchanter, has chores. Cooking, cleaning, laundry, everything – it's all done by the mages themselves. There's a huge communal kitchen that serves the entire Circle Tower, and everyone eats together in the dining hall. The rest of the time is spent studying, and practicing magic. The Circle's library is the largest in Ferelden."

Virae sat down across the fire from Morrigan. "There isn't much privacy. The mage and apprentice quarters are like large dormitories. The senior enchanters have individual rooms, though. The children who are too young to be apprentices are cared for by Chantry sisters in the Crèche. Most of the grounds are taken up by an extensive herb garden, and there's a play area for the children."

Morrigan scowled, "Tis a prison."

Virae nodded, "Templers watched us constantly." She mimicked the Reverend Mother's falsetto voice "magic exists to serve mankind". Virae shook her head sadly, "Yeah, they never missed a chance to drive that one into our heads. Indeed it is a prison. But…," and she looked into Morrigan's eyes for a few moments, "it is also Sanctuary."

"Why would any sane person seek sanctuary in such a place?" Morrigan scoffed.

"No Circle Mage I ever met had a choice. We were all brought there as children. I ah… I spent a lot of time helping in the crèche. For most mages, the Circle crèche is the first place they ever remember feeling safe. All but a few suffered dreadful abuse, often at the hands of people who claimed to help them hide." Virae was quiet for a moment, thinking of frightened, hollow eyes she'd gazed into, as one child or another poured out their story. She sighed, "That is, the ones that weren't killed by their own parents or neighbors. "

Morrigan's eyes narrowed, and her voice had an edge, "What are you saying then, that the Templers did them a favor? Dragging them to this sanctuary?"

Virae ran her hand through the hair over her forehead, "You know how it is, Morrigan, magic is feared, hated. We are the scapegoats when a crop fails. If a babe is stillborn, we get the blame. How do you think you would have fared, a child alone, without Flemeth to protect and teach you?"

Virae picked up a stick and absently poked the fire. "Templers don't bring back every mage child they find. Any child older than eleven or twelve is usually christened 'apostate' and killed… or worse. But, is it better for those children to be safe and imprisoned without knowing any other life, or to have a taste of freedom only to be hunted down and brutally killed?"

Virae thought briefly about her mother's failed attempt to find a Dalish clan to take her in so she could be free. "Anyway," she whispered sadly, "the Templers have my phylactery now. They can always find me."

A deep voice said, "I had no idea it was like that." Virae turned to see Alistair looking at her, awareness finally there in his eyes.

A slow smile spread across Virae's face. "It's good to have you back."

* * *

The first thing Alistair saw when he opened his eyes in the morning was Virae playing with the Mabari. He tried to remember the last few days, but since Ostagar and Flemeth's hut it was a blur, except for last night.

Foremost in his mind was Virae's radiant smile, and a warm if awkward hug. She'd asked him about Duncan – the pain was still raw – and she'd listened with such compassion to how much Duncan had meant to him. He had been surprised to hear how much Duncan had come to mean to her in the short time she'd known him. They'd even planned a memorial for him in Highever.

Then Morrigan made some derogatory remark about sentimental nonsense and stalked away from camp. The Mabari had stood up and whined, then scampered happily after her as she disappeared into the forest.

He and Virae stayed up quite late talking by the campfire. She asked him what it was like to be a Grey Warden, with all of the others, and he had told her story after story. She'd listened with rapt attention to everything, from mundane descriptions of the mess hall and barracks, to humorous stories that mostly involved practical jokes and drinking, to exciting battles against darkspawn. Then she would ask the odd question here and there that got him going on yet another story. Sitting with her in companionable silence after he'd told every anecdote he could think of, it felt as if he'd given a eulogy for all of those friends that were gone. When he finally laid down on his bedroll for the night, he'd actually started to feel better about their situation, and was even distracted from his mournful thoughts long enough to consider how the other warden's dark auburn hair framed those pretty green eyes…

Virae laughed out loud at the Mabari, who was sitting in front of her with a rather slobbery stick in his mouth. Alistair shook his head and sat up just as Virae threw the stick and turned to look at him.

"You're awake. How are you feeling?" she seemed to be appraising him, probably wondering if zombie boy was gone for good.

"I'm still with you", he said with a half-hearted smile.

Morrigan was walking toward them from the direction of the stream, rubbing her wet hair with a cloth, "More's the pity".

Alistair made a conscious effort to ignore Morrigan. "What did you say you named the Mabari?"

Virae threw the stick for the waiting canine. "His name is Caraid. It means 'friend' in Tevinter."

Morrigan's head snapped up, "you know the Tevinter language?"

Virae shook her head, "No, only a few words. So many Tevinter words are also spells, the Chantry is very strict about allowing anything written in Tevinter into the Tower."

"So his name is Car-ich?", Alistair emphasized the first syllable.

Virae nodded, "that's pretty close. You roll the 'r'." She stood in front of the Mabari, rubbing his ears, "Isn't that right, mo charaid?"

* * *

_For my story, I have decided, __somewhat arbitrarily, to __use __G__à__idhlig (Scottish Gaelic) __for words in the Tevinter languae__. According to the online Dragon Age wiki, Tevinter is similar to the Byzantine Empire. But, I don't know __Greek__,__ and lately I've been learning a __(very) little G__à__idhlig._

caraid, "friend" (male gender)

mo charaid "my friend"

Thanks to ApatheticGamer for the review!


	4. Chapter 4

_Skipping ahead once again... whilst visiting the village of Lothering, Virae added Sten and Leliana to her companions, and picked up the traveling merchant Bodahn and his son Sandal._

* * *

**Chapter 4: After Lothering**

Virae was sitting next to her tent in camp meditating. Or rather _trying_ to meditate. The camp was a noisy place now that their numbers had doubled, and Alistair was talking again.

She could almost smile at the irony of their situation. An elven mage was leading an ex-Templer, a Chantry lay-sister, a Qunari soldier (Qunari kept their mages on a leash), an apostate, and a Mabari (a Ferelden symbol of human nobility) that had imprinted on _her_. Alistair, the obvious candidate for leader, made it clear he didn't want the job, and Virae had willingly accepted the responsibility. After what happened with Irving, she had vowed never to let someone else push her into any course of action that she knew was wrong. Logic might dictate that she should be having an anxiety attack right now, but instead she was beginning to feel less apprehensive about her role as leader.

The report Duncan had shared with Alistair, about Dalish Elves being seen in the Brecilian Forest, was over three weeks old now. From what she knew about the nomadic nature of the Dalish, they probably wouldn't be there much longer. So the Grey Warden party was headed to the Brecilian Forest hoping to recruit the first treaty allies. Virae was anticipating meeting the Dalish with trepidation. She was worried about how she would be received by the Dalish, and she was even more worried about how they would greet her companions.

Sten was in surprisingly good health considering how long he'd been in that cage. At first she'd worried that her healing magic didn't work on the Qunari. She couldn't sense any current injuries, and couldn't feel the trace echoes that healing magic left behind to betray past injuries. Finally after a series of frustrating conversations trying to understand his medical history, she managed to establish that healing magic had never been used on him - he had always healed naturally. All he needed to recover from his incarceration was copious amounts of water and a few good meals, and he was in perfect fighting condition.

Leliana was a delight. Virae had been very reluctant to accept help from a Chantry lay-sister, but it soon became apparent that Leliana's beliefs were peculiarly open-minded, and she did not engage in the usual Chantry animosity toward mages. Not only that, but she was amazingly skilled with a bow, and a trained Bard. She knew many, many ballads and stories, and was always happy to share them. Virae was thrilled to have a native Orlesian speaker with them – finally she was learning to correctly pronounce the words she had been reading for the last several years. She didn't even mind that Leliana never seemed to stop talking. Well, usually. Leliana was retelling a story for Alistair, a tale that she and Virae had discussed at length on the road this morning. Leliana knew the story in Orlesian, and was now translating it into Ferelden for Alistair. Virae found herself wondering why Leliana chose this word or that phrase in Ferelden as a translation. It was very distracting.

Virae was pleased with the serendipitous arrangement she had with the dwarf, Bodahn. Having him along with them on the road meant that they had a ready buyer for loot, and a source of supplies. It also meant they could carry slightly more equipment than would fit into their packs. In addition, Bodahn had a wide and varied knowledge about weapons, he could ascertain exactly where a sword had been made, what materials it was made of, and who had crafted it.

Bodahn's son Sandal was fascinated with Caraid, and never got tired of throwing a stick for him. Watching them play together, it was sometimes hard to remember that the big goofy Mabari was actually a war dog.

Sandal wasn't just a playmate for the Mabari. On their first evening together Virae showed Bodahn a dagger with an empty rune slot that she'd taken off a dead bandit in Lothering, and was surprised when Bodahn said Sandal could enchant it for her with one of the runes she'd found. Virae watched the boy's face light up as she handed him the dagger and rune, but was momentarily puzzled by how sad he looked after the enchantment was complete. So she handed him the other two runes she'd found and said she'd come back for the dagger later. Sandal was thrilled and sat there all evening, alternating runes and enchanting the same dagger over and over.

Morrigan was more irritable than ever, and had taken to setting up a private mini-camp away from everyone else. Virae knew that Morrigan needed this space – such closeness to more than one or two people at a time was overwhelming to the witch. Her remote location within the camp also made it easier to nip away in animal form, which seemed to help her cope. It was quickly becoming Virae's habit to visit Morrigan in her private camp for a cup of herb tea each evening, and she thought Morrigan enjoyed their chats as much as she did.

Virae was pleased by how well the group fought together and how their skills complemented one another. This afternoon they were attacked by a group of eleven darkspawn – seven genlock grunts, an alpha, two archers, and an emissary. Virae had time to cast one cone of cold spell, freezing two genlock grunts before Alistair and Sten ran ahead, each shattering one frozen enemy, and drawing the attention of the rest. Leliana and Virae stood in the back, Leliana firing off arrow after arrow and Virae switching to healing magic to maintain everyone's health. Morrigan was throwing fireballs at the archers. A genlock grunt broke away from the rest and ran bellowing toward Leliana and Virae, but Caraid overwhelmed it and tore out it's throat. Sten had engaged the alpha, and Alistair was going for the emissary just as Morrigan came in beside him and shape-shifted into a spider. The sight of Morrigan bursting into spider form startled Alistair, and his mana drain hit Virae instead. Spider-Morrigan spat poison at the emissary, just before one of Leliana's arrows pierced it's head. Alistair finished off an archer while Sten sliced the last grunt in half with his battleaxe. The whole battle was over in minutes. Virae had to wait for her mana to recharge, then healed everyone. Luckily none of the companions were seriously injured.

The experience had her thinking about how to make the best use of their collective talents, and cross-training. She planned to talk it over with Alistair.

Virae was becoming very fond of Alistair, he was kind and considerate, offered thoughtful opinions without questioning her leadership, and he made her laugh. She was fairly sure he liked her too. If he had been another mage from the Circle, she would have bedded him already. But, sometimes his behavior was so confusing, she couldn't figure out if he wanted to...

Virae sighed. Not much meditating going on here. She tried once again to clear her mind as Aaron had taught her. She was just exhaling her first 'cleansing breath' when she heard Sten's heavy footsteps approach and opened her eyes to see him looking down at her. She examined his face and body language carefully. Left eyebrow raised slightly, arms folded across his chest, and… there. His right index finger twitched. After those first few frustratingly circular conversations with Sten, Virae started cataloging the minute variations in his facial expressions, body language, and tone of voice. That look was… hmm, expectation… yeah, I'm pretty sure that's expectation. Well, maybe fifty percent sure. She stood up slowly and muttered. "I have to find a better place to meditate".

Sten nodded, "I will accompany you." The tone had similarities to the one he used when she asked him about fighting darkspawn. It might even indicate approval. Virae smiled to herself, learning to understand Sten was proving to be an interesting and rewarding project.

They walked a short distance to a grassy area next to the stream. It was within sight of camp, but the gurgling water offered a pleasant white noise that blocked out the other companions' chatter.

Ignoring Sten, Virae sat down, arranged herself in a comfortable cross-legged position, and pulled up one of her memories of Aaron teaching her to meditate. His soft, calm voice filled her mind. _Meditating clears the mind, __and allows you to __find peace__. Through meditation you will grow your mana pool and strengthen your connection to it_. _Practice controlling your negative __emotions__ during meditation, and you will be less vulnerable to demons in the fade. Now clear your mind and feel the magic inside you..__._

Virae cleared the jumble of thoughts racing through her mind, and with a practiced touch reached into herself, and connected with the inner calm, her mana pool. Every mage felt their mana pool in a very personal way. For her, it flowed like cool blue water, sparkled like brilliant warm sunlight, twisted and twirled and sparked like electricity, all in a spiral dance. She embraced her living connection to the fade and joined the dance.

* * *

Conscious of the fact that Sten had just completed his own meditation, Virae released her meditative state and stretched. As often happened, she emerged from meditating with an idea.

* * *

Leliana had reached the end of her story, and Alistair was asking questions, "So, before Aveline, women could not become knights in Orlais?"

Leliana nodded, "Freyan abolished the law and knighted her posthumously after he became emperor."

Virae bounded up to them, nearly running right into Alistair. Alistair caught her before she lost her balance and held her at arm's length, his hands just above her elbows.

"Vie, you always look so relaxed after you meditate, perhaps I should try it, no?" Leliana smiled.

Virae caught her breath but continued to lean into Alistair, "I thought you had your fill of meditating in the Chantry. Besides," she grinned, "I think you achieve the same effect by telling a story." Then she looked up at Alistair, "I have an idea I want to talk to you about."

Alistair released the elf and raised an eyebrow uncertainly, "Am I going to like this idea?"

"I hope so, it's going to involve close personal contact between us," she grinned mischievously. "I want you to spar with me."

Alistair blushed lightly, "You want me to do what?"

"You try to stop me from using magic with your Templer ability. I resist. I think it will help both of us get stronger."

* * *

It took some experimenting to find the best way to make the Templer/Mage sparing work. They stood facing each other a few paces apart. Alistair balanced with his left foot forward and his right hand out, palm facing Virae, like he was pushing against an invisible wall. Virae's stood with one foot forward and one foot back, both arms bent, her hands raised palm-up, each holding a fountain of electric sparks. Leliana decided it was a bit like watching an arm-wrestling match. The fountain of sparks grew larger as Virae gained, and the fountain of sparks disappeared as Alistair gained.

Soon, everyone in camp was watching. Morrigan had ventured into the main camp and was standing with her arms crossed, a thoughtful expression on her face. The intent expression on Sten's face as he looked up from cleaning a brace of rabbits might have been curiosity. Caraid was pacing nervously, disturbed to see his master and friend apparently fighting.

Alistair's forehead was creased in concentration, his shoulders tensed. Virae's arms began shaking as though she was holding up something heavy. Abruptly the fountain collapsed as Virae closed each hand into a fist, "OK, you win for tonight."

Alistair's smile was smug, "I think you were right, a few more sessions like that and I'll be able to null just about any emissary we meet in battle."

Virae smiled back slyly, "Look Alistair, I know you promised the Reverend Mother and all, but would you consider teaching Sten? It would be such an advantage if we had two warriors that can deal with enemy magic. And…" she glanced over at Morrigan who was retreating to her private camp, "Morrigan could use this kind of practice as much as me… If Sten is trained then you wouldn't need to spar with her, the two of them can spar with each other."

"It just feels wrong to go back on my promise, but… you're right, of course." Alistair was looking uneasily in Morrigan's direction, "Maker forgive me, I guess I'd even betray the Reverend Mother to avoid Morrigan."

Virae smiled enthusiastically, "That's what Grey Wardens do, anything to end the Blight!" She reached up, put her hands on Alistair's shoulders, and pulled him toward her so their lips touched. "Ow!" he jerked back, "You shocked me!"

"Sorry!" Virae dropped her hands immediately, her pointed ears blushing pink. "I'll just, um, see if Sten needs any help roasting those rabbits."

Alistair watched as she hurried away, his ears a bright red.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Shape Shifting**

Virae paused for a moment to let her eyes adjust to the relative darkness of the forest. The gentle light from the full moon shown in sharp contrast to the bright light cast by the roaring campfire behind her. Morrigan glanced back at her, and Virae marveled at how the witch could move silently and effortlessly along the narrow path. Virae followed as quickly as she could, and just when she thought she'd lost the witch, stepped into a small enclosed clearing surrounded by pine trees. Morrigan sat gracefully, and indicated that Virae should do the same.

"I am most grateful that you are willing to attempt to teach me… it would be so useful if I could fight in animal form. Also… I wondered if, when you were being hunted by Templers, did you use shape shifting to hide?"

"Most effectively." Said Morrigan.

"Then I will be a very dedicated pupil indeed."

Morrigan chose her words thoughtfully, "Flemeth did not bid me sit and listen to lessons. That was not her way. My childhood was spent exploring the natural world, learning by trial and error, and observing her. I will do what I can to put what I know about shape shifting into words, but you must experience it for yourself, if you can. It is quite possible that your Tower Mage training will interfere with your capacity to learn wild magic."

Virae nodded and waited patiently for Morrigan to begin.

"First," the witch began, "you must feel the wild magic around you, and connect with the energy of the natural world. Wild magic feels… chaotic, slippery. It can not be controlled, or focused, like mage magic."

Virae settled into her meditation pose. She listened to the sounds of the forest. Her noisy passage through the trees had made the forest quiet, but the various creatures had since resumed their activities. Something rustled in a nearby stump, a frog croaked, crickets were singing close by, and in the distance Virae heard an owl.

Lessons for using magic at the Circle were all about control. Control your thoughts, control your emotions, control the magic. She thought of the time before her mage training, when she was still with her mother. Then magic was all about the fear of being discovered, but there was wonder and joy in it as well. Virae brought up one particular memory… she was helping her mother gather the elfroot that grew just outside the city gates, when she heard a rustling next to the wall. She went closer and discovered a Raven with a broken wing hiding behind a tuft of dead grass. It was fascinating, such a fierce creature, it eyed her like it knew it would die, but would cause as much damage to its attacker as possible first. The broken bird had calmed as she crept closer, crouched with one hand palm-down in the dirt, and reaching out with the other. She remembered wanting desperately for the bird's wing to heal. She touched the wing, and felt a spark that started from the hand resting on the ground, built inside her, and went through her other hand into the bird's wing. To her delight, the sleek black bird jumped into the air and flew away. Strangely, the raven turned up in the alienage soon after, and seemed to visit her from time to time.

Virae reflected on the feel of that untutored magic, then focused again on the sounds of the forest. She thought of how all the living things of the forest were connected, how they depended on each other for survival. Then she picked up her hands from her lap and pressed them palm down into the loam of the forest floor on either side of her. She visualized reaching into the earth… and… there… no… yes… There! It was subtle, delicate, tenuous. She felt the mana pool of the forest herself, skittering and flowing. Uncontrollable.

The ex-Tower Mage opened her green eyes and met the witch's yellow, and understanding passed between them.

"Next choose the animal you wish to become. You must know this animal well. Study it. Know how it moves, how it hunts, mates, fights, retreats. Know how it feels and perceives the world around it, understand its essential place in the world. The more deeply you understand the animal, the more smoothly you will shift, and less of your mana is required to maintain that shape."

"I thought perhaps a raven, or a cat."

"The cat twould be best. The bone structure and internal organs of mammals are more similar to your own. Also, if the shape slips away from you, it may be… imprudent to be in the air."

Virae brought up her memories of the time soon after she first arrived at the Circle, when the Reverend Mother wanted her executed because she might be possessed. Nine years old, and she was locked up in the dungeon where they kept apostates, for two weeks. Her only company was a cat, black with white feet and a white tipped tale. Strong and sleek, she probably lived off the inevitable mice that scurried around in the dark corners of the dungeon. Virae felt as if that cat was sent by Mythal the Protector herself, one of the ancient gods of Elvhenan, to keep her sane - and the cat seemed to accept that vocation. The young elf had absorbed every possible detail of the animal's movement and behavior.

Virae nodded to Morrigan, and she continued. "The energy of the natural world, the wild magic, acts as a catalyst for the shift. Draw you a spark from the wild magic, embrace the essence of the animal shape, and let it flow with your mana pool over your own shape."

Virae reached into herself and touched her cool-warm-twirling mana pool. She visualized her willpower gently molding it into the shape of the cat. She felt resistance, and softly reached for the wild magic, drawing a spark into her mana pool. She felt a surge of power as the animal shape glided over her own.

Suddenly, she was smothering under a large, heavy, cloth. She heard a frightened hissing, growling sound. She was panicked and struggling. She felt herself being lifted up, cloth and all, and then she rolled to the ground and landed on four feet. Far above, Morrigan was a giant looking down at her.

The hissing and growling sound abruptly stopped. With a shock, she realized it had been coming from her. She was a cat!

Virae felt the cat shape suddenly slip. She was lying on the ground, naked, a normal sized Morrigan standing there holding her mage robes.

Virae looked up at Morrigan, and grinned "That was amazing! Do I look as ridiculous as I feel?"

Morrigan smirked "far worse, I would say." Then they were both laughing. It was the first time Virae had ever heard the witch indulge in sincere mirth.

Virae's long hair had been pinned up in a tight bun, but was now a loose, tangled mess, with hair pins haphazardly sticking out in different directions. She took her robe from Morrigan and picked up her boots and small clothes from the ground. "Why didn't my clothes shape-change with my body? Did you know that would happen?"

The witch was still chuckling, "There could be any number of explanations. It may simply require practice. Or perhaps your Tower robes are not compatible with wild magic." She shrugged. "I know not."

Virae picked the last of the hair pins from her hair and ran her fingers through it, smoothing it down. "I have _got_ to try that again."

Virae folded her clothes into a neat pile and sat in her meditation pose again, hands against the earth. This time the spark was more elusive, then she caught the spark but lost hold of the cat shape before she could pull it on. After a few minutes she began to shiver – the forest cold was distracting – and regretfully started to get up. She stood for a moment, bare feet pressed against the ground, considered, then crouched with just the balls of her feet and her fingertips touching the ground. She tried again, and this time the cat shape glided over her immediately.

Instantly, the world around her exploded with scent and sound and movement. She could see everything around her far more clearly, a sensation her elven mind associated with bright light, but the cat mind associated with dim light. She was aware of movement all around her, every leaf that fluttered in the light breeze, the tiny jerky movement of a beetle in the grass, flying insects in the air and bats diving after them. She could hear the chirping sounds of the bats. Her whiskers pointed forward and her tail – she had a tail! – lashed back and forth. Her elf ears – far more sensitive than human ears – were nothing compared to her cat ears. She could move them independently and pinpoint the source of any sound exactly. That rustling sound in the stump was suddenly overwhelmingly enticing. Insolently ignoring the human female nearby, Virae-cat's lithe, strong body glided gracefully toward the stump. She coolly observed the top of the stump, nearly five times her height, easily calculated the distance and exact angle, then in one elegant movement jumped to the top. She gracefully balanced there and opened her mouth slightly, enhancing her sense of smell. Mice were in the stump… an adult female and at least eleven tasty young…

The human started making a strange noise. Virae-cat turned toward her and… realized that sound was laughter. Virae felt the cat shape slip, and found her elf-self falling awkwardly off the stump.

Morrigan managed to choke out, "Twill require concentration and practice to assert your own mind over the instincts of the animal."

Virae laughed with Morrigan, took a deep breath, then crouched and shifted into cat-shape again.

* * *

Virae shivered as she pulled on her clothes. "I think I've had enough for one night." Virae said with satisfaction.

"I must admit, I am surprised you caught on so quickly."

"Not that quickly, since I still can't get my clothes to shape-shift with my body. Well not yet anyway. But that was fun… just, you know, so much fun. So incredible, there are not words enough, really. Thank you Morrigan."

Morrigan nodded and became serious, "Flemeth gave only one missive in regards to shape shifting. She said 'You will find that you have an affinity with some animals more than others. Animals that are closer to your own nature will be easier to learn. There will be some animals you can never learn.' I myself have found these words to be true."

* * *

Alistair had completed his morning exercise - sword and shield forms, had cleaned up and was just returning to camp when he heard two familiar female voices laughing.

"… I must have looked completely ridiculous! My hair was sticking out every which way, I lost some of my hair pins... and… " Virae noticed Alistair walking toward them and dropped her voice. "J'ai été complètement nu! "(1)

"But, it sounds like you had fun." Leliana was still chuckling.

Virae nodded, "It was so amazing, the mind of an animal is fascinating." She paused and then said, "You know, Morrigan would make a gifted teacher."

Alistair cringed at the thought of Morrigan around children, "So… Vie, when you disappeared with Morrigan last night, was she teaching you something?"

Virae's eyes were bright, "She was teaching me to shape shift. It was so much fun…"

"But, why would you want to shape shift?" Alistair asked nervously, "We need you casting healing spells, you know, from the back where it's safe."

"You're right, of course, tactically we are better off if I concentrate on keeping us all alive. But, we all need to be as versatile as possible, and maybe I _could_ help with fighting eventually."

Alistair shuddered, "You're not going to turn into a giant spider are you?"

"No, not yet anyway. Morrigan says the exoskeleton is challenging, and I would have to study them, although" Virae said thoughtfully, "I did kill quite a few for Senior Enchanter Leorah… there were always lots of giant spiders in the storage caves."

Alistair rubbed the hair at the nape of his neck apprehensively, "So what shape _did_ you learn? A wolf? …bear? …hawk?"

"A cat." Virae smiled sheepishly.

"You mean, like…" The corner of his mouth started to twitch. "a pussy cat?" He started to grin, "Oh yeah, that would be _really_ helpful in battle." In an affected, booming voice, "Darkspawn, Beware! Beware my hiss! Beware my fluffy tail! Beware the way I ignore you and take a nap!"

Virae folded her arms and glared at him. A few tell-tale sparks crackled between her fingers.

Leliana was holding her side, stifling a laugh.

"We will be _all_ set if we run into any corrupted mice." Alistair was enjoying himself, "Excuse me genlock ser, Sten and I have to hold you down so our fearsome cat can scratch your eyes out!"

"Hey, I'm just learning, I had to start somewhere!" Virae tried to hold on to her irritation, but then gave up and started laughing too. "OK, so it's not that practical. _Yet_. But, like I said, it's _fun_."

Alistair's smile faded, "So are you going to be, ah, shape-shifting into a cat around camp now?"

"Nooo, because, like I said, I'm just learning and…" Virae shot a glance over at Leliana, who was suppressing a smile, "I haven't got it right yet."

* * *

_(1__) "__J'ai été complètement nu!__ "__ - __French for __"__I was completely naked!__ "__ (Using Bing online translator.)_

_A big **Thank You**__ to everyone who has taken the time to read my story so far! And a special Thank you__ to __Angry Girl__ for the review!_


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Dreams and Lampposts**

Alistair was sitting in a place he knew well – the Chantry classroom. An elderly chantry sister was saying, "Alistair, stop daydreaming and step up to the chalkboard." He pried himself away from the overly small student desk, walked over to the sister and took a stick of chalk from her hand, then turned to the chalkboard. He stared at a confusing array of numbers and symbols that started to move around before his eyes. Then he looked down and realized he was wearing nothing but his small clothes. _Not this dream again._

He heard shouting in the hallway, and ran out to investigate. He was surrounded by darkspawn. The chalk in his hand grew into a sword, a shield grew out of his arm, and he flew into the battle. Hack, slice, shield bash, stab, spin, swing - again and again, one after another darkspawn fell, until he was standing in a pool of black corrupted blood, and still they kept coming. Little by little they beat him down until he was overwhelmed… and fell. _I wonder how I can __scream__ when my body is cut up into little pieces_…

"Alistair! Alistair, wake up!" _a familiar voice, but__ so__ hard to hear over that screaming_…

Abruptly the screaming stopped, and Alistair opened his eyes to look into a pair of worried green eyes. "Alistair, are you OK? You were having a nightmare. I couldn't wake you." She was in his tent, hands on his shoulders, her face a few inches from his. For a moment he just looked into her pretty face, her breath warm on his face, lips so close…

Virae sat back and smiled at him. "Darkspawn nightmare?" He nodded and began to sit up, but as the blanket fell away he remembered he was wearing only his small clothes and clutched the blanket to his chest.

She patted his shoulder, "go back to sleep, it's another hour before sunrise." Then she slipped out of his tent.

Alistair laid back on his bedroll again and tried to relax, listening to her footsteps as she walked back over to the campfire. Virae was always willing to take Last Watch, he mused, said she liked to watch the sun rise. Sure, watching a sunrise now and then was nice, but not usually worth getting out of bed for, in his opinion. Alistair preferred First Watch, that was more like just staying up late. Usually it was a good arrangement – he woke her when she was having a darkspawn nightmare, and – like just now - she woke him.

Alistair tried to go back to sleep, but his thoughts kept straying back to Virae keeping watch with Caraid, so he decided to get dressed and join her.

The pre-dawn air was cool and crisp, and Alistair took in a deep breath of the pine scented air.

Virae was sitting on a log with her back to the fire, so her eyes would remain adjusted to the dark surrounding camp. Her loose hair hung to her waist, and glowed in the firelight. Caraid was sitting next to her, and she was scratching his ears affectionately. Alistair walked over quietly, and settled down on the log next to her.

She looked up at him, "Couldn't get back to sleep? Must have been a bad one."

Alistair groaned, "Yes, well… it started out as a recurring nightmare I used to have, about standing in front of a classroom, wearing just my small clothes."

"Oh?" Virae grinned, "That would be worth walking the fade to see."

Alistair rolled his eyes, "Ha ha, very funny," But then the thought of Virae intruding upon some of his other dreams hit him, and he gasped, "Wait, you can't really do that can you?"

"Nah," she punched him playfully, but then added with a mischievous grin "Not without a large amount of lirium, anyway."

Alistair examined her face and decided she was teasing him.

"Did you see the Archdemon?" she asked.

"No. Just fighting wave after wave of darkspawn until they finally overwhelm me and hack me to pieces." Alistair grimaced.

"Ah", Virae nodded, "One of the better darkspawn dreams, then."

"Actually, they're getting worse," Alistair said grimly.

Virae whispered, "mine too."

Alistair got up to tend the fire. Building the fire and keeping it going was one of his favorite jobs around camp. There was a certain art to arranging it and feeding it just so. Virae had a tendency to just throw logs on top when it burned down. Once he had it built up and arranged to his satisfaction, he rejoined Virae who was smiling at him thoughtfully.

"I was thinking about those dogs that raised you."

Alistair smiled, that was one of his better humorous stories, "You mean slobbering dogs."

"Right. Slobbering dogs. The best kind." Virae rubbed Caraid's head again, then tipped her head toward Alistair. "I wondered if you remember anything about Arl Eamon's estate in Denerim."

Alistair stiffened, and glanced warily at the other Grey Warden - the elf-mage with lightning fast intuition and an entire library stored in her head. Did she suspect his secret? Maybe this was as good a time as any to tell her… except then she'd probably treat him differently… "Why do you ask?"

"I've been there. My aunt – really my mother's aunt – worked there, in the kitchens. When I was young, she brought me to the estate with her, occasionally."

Alistair relaxed, "I was there a couple times when I was little. I don't remember that well, Eamon only took me with him when Isolde stayed behind in Redcliffe. I remember Eamon buying me a golem figure at a shop in the market." He tried to imagine what she might have looked like as a child, "So, there's a chance we might have met as children? I think I would have remembered a pretty little elf girl."

Virae laughed, "If you had seen me, what you would remember is a little elf _boy_. Mamae made sure I was dressed like a boy whenever I left the alienage." Virae shook her head, "You and I never met before… before I joined the Grey Wardens."

Alistair tried to remember the servants that worked for Eamon at the estate, "So, what's her name? Your aunt, that is."

"Her name is Shima." Virae paused, then added sadly, "The last letter I had from her was two months before I was conscripted. I hope she's alright."

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes. Alistair looked up at the Eastern sky and noticed that fewer stars were visible, the sky was getting lighter.

"Do you hear that?" she whispered.

Alistair heard only the crackling and popping of the too-damp wood he'd put on the fire. "Hear what?"

"The day birds are waking, and the night birds are preparing to sleep." There was awe in Virae's voice.

He listened, and indeed he did hear many different birds singing and calling.

"The sun will be up soon," she said, and leaned against him.

He put his arm around her and she cuddled against him, both of them looking toward the East where the sun would soon be making its first appearance of the day. He noticed how small and vulnerable she felt, and her smell. Like rosemary and an exotic sweet flower… it reminded him of flowers that Isolde kept in the atrium at Redcliffe castle. It had been one of his favorite places to hide –mostly because it was forbidden, and also because no one thought of looking for him there. He breathed in her fragrance again. There was something else… a sort of base scent that left a metallic taste on the tongue like... he wrinkled his nose... like mage lightening.

Virae sighed, "I do so enjoy your company, Alistair."

"Really?" Alistair smiled, "because I feel the same way."

Virae pulled away just a little, and twisted around so that she was facing him. She reached one hand up and gently stroked his face, he felt his skin warming beneath her touch. She smiled up at him uncertainly, and then slowly slipped her other hand around the back of his neck and tentatively pulled his mouth to hers.

Her lips were cool, and soft, as she kissed his mouth. She pulled back very slightly, searching his face.

His heart was pounding in his chest. "That was nice," he whispered. She smiled and pressed her lips to his again. He closed his eyes and exhaled a breath he hadn't known he was holding, parting his lips, and her tongue darted between them. It ran over his lower teeth, then searched his mouth. Of its own accord, his tongue met hers, and followed it into her mouth. He felt heat building in his belly, spreading warmth throughout his body. Their lips and tongues moved together for long moments, before she broke off gasping, "Oh, Alistair."

Suddenly, she moved so that she was sitting in his lap, her elf-sized body pressed urgently against his. Her mouth met his again, and he returned the kiss hungrily. His entire focus was on her, one hand was caressing her back, holding her close against him, the other tangled in her hair. Distantly he became aware of a tightness in his trousers that was pressed against her thigh. She slid her hand down his chest, his belly, and he gasped in shock as her hand traced the hard outline between his legs.

"Your tent or mine?" she whispered.

* * *

Virae was sat with her knees drawn up to her chest, and Leliana knelt behind her, braiding her hair. "Oh Leliana, I am such an idiot," Virae voice was muffled, her forehead resting against her knees.

"Oh _m__on ami_, surely it could not have been that bad!"

"You're right, it was worse. Much worse. I made a complete fool of myself, Leli! I invited him to bed, and he _ran away_ from me." Virae had never felt so undesirable, or so rejected.

"Perhaps it's not just about you."

"Oh right." Virae found that she couldn't shake her head, with Leliana holding her hair, "The very worst part is, I think I really hurt his feelings."

"The man is an ex-Templer, is he not? He was raised in the Chantry where they have certain ideas about these things. Why don't you just talk to him?"

"Except that he's not speaking to me."

* * *

They packed up camp and set out as usual. Alistair managed to avoid her all morning, but still blushed every time Virae tried to catch his eye. Virae approached him when they stopped for their mid-day rest and meal.

Virae sat next to him, "Look, Alistair, I want to apologize. And explain."

"That's not necessary." He looked away.

"I think it is." Virae ran her hand over her head – Leliana's braid was too loose to be practical, too many strands getting in her eyes. "Come on, I know my hair looks silly, but you can look at me anyway."

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lip, but he still wasn't looking at her.

"Alistair, most mages have a fairly relaxed attitude about… bed partners. Circle mages don't expect to fall in love. We live our whole lives under control of the Chantry. Few mages are allowed to get married, or have children. If I ever had a baby, the Chantry would take it away and I'd never see him or her again. We value friendship more than any other relationship, because it can last a lifetime. It's very common for a mage to share his or her bed with a friend."

Alistair looked at her reluctantly, "Before, you said that you never… you know."

"Never licked a lamppost in winter?" Virae shook her head, "I haven't. But, not because I didn't want to. Most mages, ah, lick many different lampposts. _Often_." She didn't quite keep the frustration out of her voice, "But there was this crazy obsessed Templer at the Tower who made sure I never had the opportunity."

Virae's face became perplexed. "Wait, ah, when you said 'lick a lamppost in winter', before, you _were_ talking about se-"

"Yes," Alistair interrupted. "Yes, that's what I meant." He sighed, "It's just that, I wasn't raised to take that sort of thing lightly".

"I understand," Virae said gently, "But you're not in the Chantry anymore."

Alistair finally looked her in the eye, "Well, you're not in the Tower anymore."

"Point taken." Virae smiled back, but then her frustration got the better of her and she couldn't resist adding, "Let me know if you change your mind."

* * *

_Thank you again to "Angry Girl" for another review, I do so appreciate it!_

_;-)_


	7. Chapter 7

_This chapter has been delayed by the school winter break and snow days. I swear my kids have a psychic connection to my keyboard that causes them to yell "Moooom!" the minute I start typing!_

* * *

**Close to the Brecilian Forest**

Sten surveyed the tiny human village – not much more than a cluster of five or six farms, not even an Inn or a shop – at the edge of the Brecilian Forest. Their band had arrived just in time to fight off a group of about twenty darkspawn. It was a satisfying battle. He himself killed five, and finished off two more that the bard had wounded with arrows. His minor injuries had been healed by the elven mage Grey Warden. Sten still felt uncomfortable with this instant healing magic, but he must acknowledge how practical it was. Skilled and powerful mages were Ferelden's single greatest tactical advantage over the armies of the Qunari.

The grateful villagers welcomed the travelers, and were especially pleased with the arrival of the dwarven merchant - although they had little coin to trade. Sten put another cookie in his mouth and thought about how the warden commander had gotten them for him.

"Cookies? He wants cookies?" The middle-aged human woman had stared up at Sten, her face a blend of fear and curiosity.

"What can I say," said the elf, "you asked what you could do to show your appreciation. His favorite thing in Ferelden is cookies."

Two hours later that same human woman had walked up to him with a warm bundle of two dozen freshly baked cookies. She watched him eat the first one, and then walked away mumbling something about how her husband was never going to believe it.

Sten was keeping watch, self-appointed, whilst the rest of the party was socializing and trading with the thirty or so human inhabitants.

The templer training – that was a useful skill. The elf had convinced the warrior-warden to teach him. He practiced with the witch, and occasionally with the elf. If he still had _Asala_, he could bring this skill back to the _Arishok_, to use against the mages of Ferelden. It was clear the elf-mage understood the risk, and deemed it acceptable compared to the advantage of making their group stronger.

The human warrior was clearly born to lead, but chose not to. Even in this backward country mages were carefully controlled, and certainly not allowed to lead, but it was the elf-mage warden that rose to the challenge. The elf even claimed to be female, although he still found that hard to believe. This adaptability, this incomprehensible desire to be something they were not born to be, was both the greatest strength and the greatest weakness of these people.

Sten sighed. This was his penance, and perhaps his redemption. To serve this _Saarebas _Grey Warden, to kill darkspawn, and most importantly to do what he could to end the Blight before it could spread throughout the rest of Thedas.

The elf had even promised to try to find _Asala_. Pursuing the Grey Warden treaties would take them all over Ferelden - it was possible they would find it, but unlikely. He was resigned to his fate – he would die in this cold land that smelled of garbage and wet dogs.

Sten popped the last cookie in his mouth and watched the elven warden approach him.

"Sten, did you eat all those cookies in one go?" her mouth opened into that toothy grimace that passed for a smile among elves and humans.

Sten simply nodded. It was obviously a rhetorical question.

"We'll set up camp here, at the edge of the village, tonight. In the morning, Bodahn and Sandal will stay in the village with their wagon, and the rest of us will walk into the forest. If there are Dalish elves in the Brecilian forest, they will find us before we find them."

Virae crossed her arms and glared back at the village. Under her breath, she said "It's so annoying when _Shems_ just assume I'm Alistair's whore."

Sten smiled and said, "I don't understand your mating rituals, but based on what I overheard the other morning, is that not what you wanted?"

"You heard that?" Virae sighed and shook her head, "No, Sten. The words 'lover' and 'whore' don't mean the same thing."

Sten's smile widened, "What is the difference then, warden?"

"You know what, Sten? _Never mind_. I…" Virae stopped abruptly and examined Sten's face. "You… you're… _teasing_ me?" The commander made that ridiculous sound they call laughter.

* * *

Alistair was keeping watch as Sten and Morrigan disappeared into their respective tents to sleep. He and Leliana had first watch; in a few hours he'd wake Sten and Morrigan for second watch. Virae and Caraid had last watch.

Virae was pacing, distressed about something. Whatever was bothering her, He hoped it didn't have anything to do with him. When that couple in the village offered their bedroom to him and 'his elf' for the night, she had been so angry that she walked out, leaving him to stammer out an embarrassed 'no thank you'.

He wondered why Virae had traded with those other villagers for clothing their son had outgrown. She said she needed it for shape-shifting experiments.

Leliana put a gentle hand on Virae's shoulder, "_M__on ami_, what upsets you so?"

The bard and elf sat together on a log. "I'm… I guess I'm nervous about meeting Dalish Elves. They aren't always very… accepting of city elves."

"But, your mother lived among them, did she not? And your father… he was Dalish, no?" Leliana put her arm around the elf.

Virae shook her head, "that might not matter to them. I was thinking about a story my mother told me about her life with the Dalish, and my father."

"Perhaps you will feel better if you tell me."

Virae nodded, and looked up. Her eyes became unfocused, and in the dim light, they were glowing.

* * *

**Takoda's story**

_When Virae begins speaking, the pitch and tenor is that of a child._

The kitchen smells so good after we come home from gathering herbs… I close my eyes and pretend I'm in the woods. The ceiling even looks like an upside-down forest!

I am helping Mamae tie elfroot into bundles to hang from the ceiling to dry. I sort through the huge pile and choose a few stalks that are about the same size, and then hold the bundle while she wraps the string around and ties it. I tried to tie one myself, but my knot was too loose and the bundle fell apart. It has to be extra tight because as the herbs dry, they shrink, and we don't want to come home to find all our hard work littered all over the floor! When we have a nice pile of bundles Mamae climbs the step ladder and I hand the bundles to her one at a time and she hangs them from the hooks in the ceiling.

I am so proud of her, everyone says that Takoda Surana is the best herbalist in the alienage. Even some of the human shopkeepers in the market buy her potions to sell. And, I am the best helper ever. Mamae says so.

_A warm alto voi__ce says_, "I'll make health potions with the rest of the elfroot we collected this morning, and you can help me take them to the orphanage tomorrow."

"Yeah!" _says the child's voice_, "I haven't seen my friends there for two whole days!" I love our visits to the alienage orphanage. I get to play with the children and help them with their schoolwork, and Mamae helps keep them from getting sick.

I watch Mamae carefully preparing the fresh elfroot, "Mamae, what will we make for dinner?"

"I thought we would make soup with the roots we gathered, and eat it with flatbread. Why don't you start washing them, _Da'len_?"

I put the roots in a basin, and take them out to the well. I wash them so well, even Auntie Shima would be pleased. Then I hear him – it's the raven with the broken wing from this morning. I'm sure it's the same one. I smile and say hello. He caws at me like he's saying thank you and then flies away.

Mamae is finished preparing the health potion ingredients when I get back. I help her make the soup, and I am kneading the flatbread dough when Auntie Shima gets home.

"_Aneth ara, __Hahren_!" I throw my arms around her.

_A wise old voice says_, "_emm'asha_, you are covered in flour!"

"We're having soup and flatbread for dinner!"

Auntie Shima sits down heavily at the table, and I go back to the dough and start making it into discs while Mamae makes two cups of tea. _The strong old voice says_, "I see you had a productive day, Takoda".

Mamae sets the two cups of tea on the table and sits down herself. "_Ma serann__as_", _says the elder voice_.

Mamae's forehead is creased with worry. "Virae healed a raven with a broken wing at the city gates this morning."

Auntie's eyes get wide and she gasps, "Did anyone see her?"

Mamae just shakes her head. She looks so sad, and I run to her and wrap my arms around her, "Mamae, did I do something wrong?"

"No, _da'vhenan_, but from now on, we must be more careful. No one can see you doing any magic."

I look into her worried face, "Because Templers will come and take me away." Suddenly I feel so sad, and so afraid. My eyes fill with tears, "_Abelas_, Mamae, I won't do it again."

Mamae gathers me up into her arms and holds me tight, like I am still a baby, instead of a big seven-year-old. Auntie Shima gets up and wraps her arms around us both. My fear slips away, I feel so safe, like no one can ever hurt me. They hold me for several minutes until I just can't stand to hold still any longer, and I start to squirm. Auntie Shima chuckles and sits down again at the table.

Mamae gives me one more squeeze. "We need some more water, _Da'len_."

I pick up two buckets and skip back to the well. I go as quickly as I can, because I know Mamae just wants to talk to Shima without my 'big ears' around. The water sloshes in the buckets as I hurry, and I am all wet by the time I get back.

"… but, Takoda, it's been at least three years since there was any news of a Dalish clan nearby." _Says the elder voice_, "and even if you find one… they might not be willing to take you in."

"I know, Lethallan, I know. But, I have to try."

"The Dalish?" I am so excited, I almost drop the buckets. Mamae has been telling me stories about the Dalish for my whole life. I know all about the Creators, and I know all the stories she knows.

"Will I meet my father?" that just slips out before I can stop it, Mamae always looks sad when she thinks about him, but today she has more on her mind.

"The Dalish are nomads, you know that. They keep to the wild border lands and avoid human cities. There is no way to know where the Ipasha clan, your father's clan is now. Rarely, a clan will come close to a human city, and if one came close to Denerim, then maybe, just maybe, we could join them."

"Is that how you joined the Ipasha? Is that how you met my father? You always say you'll tell me when I'm older… I'm older now. Pleeease?"

"Yes, _Da'len_, I believe the time has come for me to tell you the story."

Mamae took a deep breath, and rubbed her temples, "I grew up in the Highever alienage. I had just completed my apprenticeship to an herbalist there, and a marriage was arranged for me with a man from the Denerim alienage. There were four of us traveling to Denerim, three brides and a groom. It was a long and dangerous journey. Along the way we were stopped by bandits - they demanded what little money we had and threatened to kill us. Then suddenly the air was full of arrows, and the bandits were dead. I had never seen Dalish elves before, only heard stories. They were proud and fierce, everything I dreamed of and more. We camped with them that night, and in the morning when the others went on to Denerim, I chose to stay with the Dalish clan."

I try to picture Mamae's younger self. She is still beautiful, with long blond hair and grey eyes. Everyone says I look just like her, except for my coloring.

"Tehya, the Keeper's First, became my closest friend. In the beginning, her brother Yanisin and I didn't get along. He scorned my alienage origin, and was critical of everything I did. But, his criticism fueled my resolve. I learned everything: how to hunt with a bow, the ancient stories, and I came to revere the creators, and the _Vir Tanadahl_."

"You mean, _Vir Assan_, _Vir Bor'Assan_, _Vir Adahlen_ – 'fly straight and do not waver', 'bend but never break' and 'together we are stronger than the one'?"

Mamae nodded, "I continued to learn more about herbs, and eventually I earned the right to participate in the coming-of-age ritual, and received my _valasalin_."

I touched the markings on her forehead, "yours is Sylaise, the Hearthkeeper."

"I traveled with the Ipasha clan for twelve years. Eventually Yanisin and I grew to love each other, and we promised to bond. He had red hair and green eyes, like you. His _valasalin_ was Elgar'nan."

"The God of Vengeance," _said the child's voice_.

"Tehya was a healer, and it was she who told me I was pregnant. I was overjoyed to be expecting Yanisin's child, and I planned to tell him on our bonding day. A few days before, Tehya and I went into the forest to collect herbs. I was so happy. I would bond with Yanisin, the man I loved, and Tehya would be my sister in name as well as in spirit."

"Tehya and I were just standing there, talking one moment, and the next… an arrow pierced right through her heart. I caught her as she fell, and her life passed from her as I held her in my arms. I looked up to see three human bandits. One held me from behind while the others searched Tehya's body, me, and our packs, but we had nothing of value to them."

"They turned their anger and frustration on me. I begged them not to hurt me. Then… if I had been an 'honorable Dalish woman', I would have fought to the death before letting those _Shemlen_ touch me, but I was raised in an alienage, and I knew that nothing was more important to me than surviving to save the life of my unborn child." The alto voice shook, "So I cooperated, I… let them use me."

Mamae swallowed, "When we were late returning to camp, the hunters came looking. Your father found us, me battered but alive, his sister dead. They went after the _Shemlen_ bandits and killed them. My grief for Tehya was overwhelming. We mourned, and Tehya's body was laid to rest and a tree planted over her according to custom. Yanisin took her place as the keeper's First. But," _Tears choked the alto voice_, "Yanisin didn't want me anymore, and the clan didn't want me. They saw my cooperation with the _Shemlen_, even to save my life, as a betrayal. I tried to explain, but Yanisin would not listen. When the keeper confirmed I was pregnant, Yanisin was convinced the child I carried was human, a result of the rape."

"Four miserable weeks went by, before we were close to Denerim. Yanisin sent a group of hunters to deliver me to the gates, and I never saw him again. But, I found Shima, my mother's sister, in the alienage, and she took me in."

_The elder voic__e said_, "And the two of you have brought joy to my life ever since."

I am appalled, and I throw my arms around Mamae's neck and kiss her cheek, "But, how could they do that? What about what you always say, 'the energy we send out comes back to us three times over'?, didn't you learn that from the Dalish?"

"Oh, _da'vhenan,_" she hugs me back, "That truth was passed on to me by my first mentor, who taught me about plants. The wisdom she taught is for all races, and is older than the Chant of Light, maybe even from the time of the Creators. Potions and healing magic can heal the body, but kindness, compassion, and forgiveness is required to heal a soul. Justice, without vengeance, comes from a spiritual awareness of the harmony and balance in the world, an awareness of how all living things are interdependent and interrelated. Being aware of this interdependence demands that we act responsibly, and we do what we can whenever possible to help others, and to harm none."

"Is that why you make potions for the orphanage?"

Mamae nods, "The Dalish say that the Creators have left the world. The Chantry even says that their Maker has left the world. But, when our hearts are open, we can see the divine in every aspect of the natural world. Life, all life, is a thing of wonder, _Da'__len_."

"Do you forgive him?"

"Yes, I forgave Yanisin and his clan the first time I looked into your beautiful face."

"I forgive them too."

"_Ma'arlath Da'len_."

"_Ma'arlath Mamae_."

* * *

I've drawn heavily on the Dragon Age Wiki for Quanari and Elvish words…

**Qunari Words**

_Arishok_: A high-ranking military leader of the Qunari

_Asala_: (the) soul, and the name of Sten's sword

_Saarebas_: A _Dangerous thing_, the qunari word for their mages

**Elvish**** Words**

_Abelas_ : Sorrow. Also used as an apology.

_Aneth ara_: A sociable or friendly greeting, or possibly an exclamation of surprise.

_Da'len_: little child.

_da'vhenan_: little heart.

_emm'asha_ : my girl.

_Hahren_: Elder.

_Lethallan_: Casual reference used for a woman with whom one close.

_ma'arlath_: I love you.

_Mamae_: Mother.

_Ma serannas_: Thank you.

_Shemlen_: Literally "quick children". The original name of the elves for the human race.

_Shems_: slang term used by city elves for humans.

_Vallaslin_: Blood writing. The art of tattooing adopted by some elves to display their worship of the traditional elven pantheon.

_Vir Tanadahl_, meaning "Way of Three Trees." A code the Dalish live by, made of three parts:

_Vir Assan _"Way of the Arrow" - fly straight and do not waver

_Vir Bor'Assan_" Way of the Bow" - bend but never break

_Vir Adahlen _"Way of the Forest" - together we are stronger than the one

* * *

_Thank you to "jubasischin" and "Angry Girl" for the reviews. Reviews are very much appreciated!_


	8. Chapter 8

**The Brecilian Forest**

"Hey, Alistair, do you know what this bush is?"

"Um, holly?"

"Nope. It's Oregon-grape. In the spring, it looks like holly, but you can tell the difference by scratching a little bark off the base of the plant." Virae knelt next to the bush. "See? The inner bark is the same color as the yellow flowers it has in the summer. The berries are edible, but tart, and the medicinal uses are…"

Alistair nodded and looked up, trying to see the sky through the thick covering of trees. Virae usually had these boring plant conversations with Morrigan, but the witch was circling above them in hawk form, looking for some sign of the Dalish elves. Leliana was walking with Sten at the rear, trying to explain the difference between being a lay sister and a Chantry house guest. Caraid seemed to have found some animal trail that interested him, and had disappeared just ahead. They'd entered the forest yesterday morning, following animal trails more or less East, and still had not seen any evidence of elves. He turned his attention back to Virae.

"… and you can make a digestive tonic out of the roots…"

Alistair nodded at what he hoped was appropriate intervals, and thought about the way Virae had related her childhood memory the other night. Virae often 'read' from books in her memory, but this was the first time he ever heard her relate an event exactly as she experienced it. What was it she told him a few weeks ago? Something about remembering events like a play right in front of her. Alistair shuddered, hearing her talk like that, in the voices of other people, had been creepy.

Caraid ran back and stopped next to Virae, giving one sharp bark. A hawk suddenly dropped from the sky, landed on the ground next to Virae, then shifted into Morrigan's form.

A dozen Dalish elves melted out of the trees, each of them holding a drawn bow.

Virae held out her hands in a peaceful gesture,** "**_Atisha__._ My name is Virae, of the Grey Wardens. I have business with your Keeper."

* * *

The Grey Warden party was preparing to leave the Dalish camp and travel into the heart of the Brecilian forest. Virae spoke quietly to Alistair, "I don't trust Zathrian, he hasn't told us everything."

"Even if they were willing, the elves can not fight with us against the Blight unless they are cured of this… Werewolf disease."

Virae nodded, "That's why I agreed to find this Witherfang."

Virae looked over the Dalish camp. Even with a quarter of their hunters sick, and the rest confined to camp by Zathrian, they were as proud and condescending as her mother had described. As an elf associating with humans, they treated her with even more contempt than the humans themselves. Mostly the Dalish ignored Alistair and Leliana, although some of them glared at the elf-warden with disgust whenever she spoke to Leliana, and especially if she was anywhere near Alistair. All of the Dalish elves actually treated Sten with respect. Even though Morrigan was human, they deferred to her as a daughter of _Asha'belannar_, Flemeth.

Sarel the storyteller was willing to recite the ancient stories he knew for her, but stubbornly refused to listen to the ancient elven stories that Virae's mentor at the Circle, Aaron, had researched.

Zathrian was openly condescending toward her, and had called her a flat-ear _seth'lin_, among other insults, before having the gall to ask for her help, and then dismissing her with the admonishment to talk to Lanaya if she needed anything else.

Lanaya, Zathrian's First, was the most tolerant person in camp, as well as the most helpful. Virae imagined that her mother's best friend, Tehya, must have been just like her. Lanaya was openly curious about Virae's early childhood in the alienage and her time in the Circle tower, especially the research Aaron had collected on ancient Elven civilization, as well as her experiences since joining the Grey Wardens. At the same time she was fiercely protective of her people and intent on defending their beliefs and their way of life. Virae found that she liked Lanaya immediately.

Virae checked in with each of the companions, they were nearly ready to set off. Leliana had just finished rearranging her pack when Zathrian approached them.

"Hahren." Virae bowed.

"I will need Witherfang's heart to cure my hunters before we can uphold the terms of the Grey Warden treaties", said Zathrian.

Virae nodded "I understand."

Zathrian looked at the elven Grey Warden thoughtfully, "did you know your parents?"

Virae looked away and bit back several flippant answers. Then she sighed and said, "My mother was Takoda."

Zathrian looked unsurprised, "Then your father must be Yanisin, Keeper of the Ipasha clan."

Virae waited for him to continue, then reluctantly asked, "Is he… still alive?"

"I don't know. The Ipasha clan was not at the last _Arlathvhen_." He cleared his throat and added disparagingly, "Takoda was a traitor. Yanisin did the right thing."

"What? How can you say that!" all of the petty slights, especially from this self-righteous, racist elder, finally broke down Virae's composure.

"How will the Dalish ever rediscover _elvenhan_ when they reject most of the elves in Thedas? What good is an honorable death, when the alienage orphanages are full, and the number of elves diminish every day? City elves choose to survive as best they can." Her voice was at full volume, and everyone in the camp was staring at them. "You say that you '_keep the ancient stories, for when the human kingdoms are gone, we must be ready to teach the others what it means to be elves_.' But how will you do that if there's none left to teach?"

Virae realized her staff was in her hand without consciously reaching for it, and electricity was crackling around her. She took a deep breath and reasserted her control. "Takoda chose to define herself by what she loved, not by what she hated. What has all this hate achieved for you? Are your people better off?"

Still holding her staff, Virae stalked off past the guards and into the forest without looking back.

* * *

Alistair had never seen Virae like this. Usually she was at home in a forest, but now she was irritable and jumpy. She flinched at every noise, every bird call, every rustling sound in the lush underbrush – sounds that he heard, and many more that his human ears apparently didn't hear. She held her staff in her hand all the time, instead of securing it in the sheath on her back. The forest felt wrong to him too, and he wondered if he would feel so uneasy right now if Virae's reaction wasn't so strong.

They'd been tramping their way through the forest all day, and Virae hadn't stopped once to pick a flower, examine some fungus growing on a tree, dig up a root, or remark about signs left by some animal.

They came to the end of yet another path that dead-ended at a cliff over a narrow ravine. "Bloody Gates of the Black City!" Virae swore and abruptly turned around and started walking back the way they'd come, pushing past Sten, who was in sweep position at the rear. "We should have turned North at that last fork."

The Brecilian forest was humid, oppressive, saturated with the earthy smell of composting vegetation. Moss hung in curtains from the branches of the trees, covering their trunks, as well as the forest floor, giving it a springy feel as he walked on it. They passed another old log covered in moss with a line of seedling trees growing along it.

The party had been attacked by wolves, bears, and even trees. The forest was defending itself, according to Virae. She had read from one of those books in her memory, _the Legend of Dane and the Werewolf_, but the werewolves that had attacked and even spoken to them were nothing like the rage-demon possessed wolves described in legend.

Morrigan was even more irritable than usual, if that was even possible – more like constantly angry. Virae was the only companion that could even speak to her, and they spoke in terse phrases and monosyllables.

"Do you feel that?" Virae said to Morrigan.

Virae walked slowly over to a huge maple tree, draped in folds of hanging moss, and slowly reached out and touched it. A shudder rippled through her whole body, but she gritted her teeth and held her ground. She nodded at Morrigan and then turned to the rest of the companions, her voice shaky, "It's like the heart was cut right out of this forest."

Alistair wasn't sure what she meant. Does a forest have a heart? He decided not to ask. He wasn't sure he wanted to know, but the meaning was clear. Whatever is wrong with this forest, they are getting closer to it.

* * *

A majestic white wolf crouched on the crumbling balcony atop the ancient elven ruin. An aura of calm and acceptance surrounded her; Witherfang faced East, her ears forward and her tail straight up.

Swiftrunner arrived suddenly in a panic, on the edge of losing control, "My lady, our enemies are almost here, you must flee!" he panted.

The white wolf's tail moved in a fluid, snake-like wag. She turned serenely to the werewolf, calm radiated from her, and as Swiftrunner relaxed, her form shifted into that of a beautiful and powerful dryad. "Be calm, dear one, this is as it is meant to be."

"But they were sent by the treacherous Dalish to kill you! An elf leads them!" he growled, "None of us will stand by and allow them to harm you, we will die first."

"No, child, you must live." She said patiently, "Soon there will be an end to this curse. You have found your humanity, you understand that my end must come."

Swiftrunner's growls hitched like sobs, "No, my Lady. Please! The cost is too great."

The Lady of the Forest touched his shoulder, and he was enveloped in her serenity, "I have known wonder and joy, hope and fear, pain and love. My end will be your new beginning. Balance will be restored to the forest, and you will fully reclaim your humanity."

Very human eyes, incongruous in the werewolf face, met her gaze. "How can we trust these intruders?"

"I have felt the presence of these people through my connection with the forest. Their leader has the capacity _to see_ _with eyes unclouded by hate_. She will help Zathrian to show mercy, and put an end to the curse. The path of freedom will open for us all."

She took one last long look at the forest, and turned gracefully, "Come, dear one, I must greet our guests."

* * *

"Hey Alistair, did you ever notice that moss almost always grows on the North side of a tree?", Virae turned to look at Alistair, and was surprised that he was not only paying attention, but smiling hugely at her. "What?"

Alistair shrugged. "Nothing… I'm just glad you're back to your old self."

They spent the first night after the confrontation between Zathrian and the Lady of the Forest, and the end of the curse, just inside the ancient elven ruins. The werewolves were human again, and anything else inclined to attack them was already dead. Everyone was desperate for a good night's sleep, and Alistair even managed to find enough dry wood for a campfire that didn't require regular boosts of mage fire to keep it going. Both Virae and Morrigan complained about walking the fade in their sleep – the veil was still thin here – but the curse was ended, and the Brecilian Forest was at peace again.

They reached the Dalish camp at nightfall, and were welcomed as heroes. At the moment the curse was lifted, all of the sick elves in camp had miraculously recovered. Lanaya was unsurprised when Virae related their story privately, including the particulars of the connection between Witherfang and Zathrian.

Lanaya handed Virae a cup of herbal tea, and sat across from her with a cup of her own. "Do you know what your name means?"

"_Vir __Revas_, shortened. It means 'the way of freedom', or perhaps as a name, 'one who walks the path of freedom'. At least, that's what my mother said."

Lanaya blew on her hot tea and tilted her head to the side. "Did she say why she gave you that name?"

"She planned to name me Tehya." Virae inhaled the delicate scent of mint combined with the robust smell of nettle leaf in the tea.

"After Yanisin's sister."

"After her closest friend." Virae corrected, "But, she had a dream. She dreamed that _Mythal_ came to her, and told her to name her child Virae."

Lanaya nodded, "Your name suits you."

They sat quietly, drinking their tea, and Virae said thoughtfully, "There are texts, in the Circle library, that contain elven lore, some of them are written in Elvish. The information contained in them should be returned to the Dalish. If we survive…" Virae shook her head, "I mean, when the Blight is ended, I will make sure you and any other Dalish scholars have access to them." She tapped her head.

Lanaya finished her tea and stood up, looking at the camp. The elves were preparing for a double celebration – the end of the curse, and the bonding of Gheyna and Cammen. "Tonight we celebrate mercy, forgiveness, and new beginnings."

Virae stood next to the new Keeper, "We celebrate hope." She could see Leliana fixing Gheyna's hair. A very patient elf was teaching Alistair how to shoot a bow. Stem was bemusedly supervising a group of children taking turns throwing a stick for Caraid. Morrigan had disappeared, all the attention was just too much for her.

Lanaya turned to Virae, "You don't have a _v__allaslin_."

"I was too young," Virae sighed, "I was nine when Mamae… died, and I was taken to the tower."

"I could conduct the ceremony, if you wished."

Virae was stunned, "I don't even know how to use a bow."

"You know the ancient stories, you follow the path of the creators. You have proven yourself... as a hunter, as a protector, and as an elf." Lanaya was smiling.

"You offer me a great honor, Lanaya, but I must think it over carefully."

* * *

**Elvish**** Words **(borrowed from the Dragon Age wiki)

_Arlathvhen_: Meeting of the Dalish clans, every ten years.

_Asha'belannar_: The Woman of Many Years. How the Dalish refer to Flemeth.

_Atisha_: peace, peaceful.

_Elvhenan_: Place of our people. The name of the elven civilization before the arrival of humans in Thedas.

_Hahren_: Elder. Used as a term of respect by the Dalish.

_Mythal__:_ The Protector. Patron goddess of motherhood and justice.

_Revas_ : "freedom"

_seth'lin_: thin blood

_Vallaslin_: Blood writing. The art of tattooing adopted by some elves to prominently display their worship of the traditional elven pantheon

_Vir_ : "path" or "the way of"

"To see with eyes unclouded by hate." Is a quote from the movie **Princess Mononoke**, _(1997)_ Written and Directed by Havao Miyazaki; English adaptation: **Princess Mononoke** _(1999)_ written by Neil Gaiman. The character Ashitaka wants the humans and forest to live in peace.

_Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read my story! Zevran will be joining the companions soon..._


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9: Ambush**

* * *

Virae sighed dramatically, "Just say what's on your mind, Alistair". They left the Dalish camp early that morning, and had nearly reached the tiny village where Bodahn and Sandal were waiting for them. The ex-Templar had been sullen ever since he woke up that morning to find that she'd gone ahead with the rite of passage ceremony.

"Nothing says 'apostate' like an elf-mage with a Dalish tattoo". Alistair grumbled.

Virae touched her forehead, the intricate design representing _Mythal_ the protector was still sore. It had been a difficult decision. A small part of her had wanted to reject the Dalish, the way they had rejected her mother. Another part of her enjoyed the acceptance that Lanaya's offer represented. A bigger part of her thought it was inappropriate - as a Grey Warden, she would never be able to live as a Dalish elf. But neither would she be able to live any kind of normal life. In the end she decided to go ahead with the ceremony because her mother would have wanted her to, and because it would separate her from those elves who believed in the human's maker.

She also felt that it symbolized the commitment she made to Lanaya and the Dalish to help restore lost elven lore, and faith that they would succeed in ending the Blight and that she would live to fulfill that commitment.

One thing she hadn't considered, was Alistair's reaction.

"It's _not_ a tattoo. It's a _Vallaslin_ - blood writing. Elves in the alienage have them too, sometimes. Why does it bother you? You're not a Templar anymore."

"We still have to get the Circle of Magi to fulfill their treaty obligation to the Grey Wardens. It won't help if, in addition to traveling with an apostate, the Templars think one of _us_ is an apostate."

Morrigan spoke up, "Oh, yes, those lyrium-addled Templars just assume that apostates go around letting demons take over their bodies, and those marks on her forehead are some kind of an invitation."

Alistair pointedly turned his back to Morrigan, "I'm not saying I think that way, I'm just telling you what Templars will think when they see you."

Virae sighed, Morrigan getting involved was not helping her case. "You have a point, Alistair. It does help to anticipate every possible problem in advance."

She put her hand on his arm and stopped walking until Morrigan had continued ahead out of hearing range. "Look, Alistair, try to understand what it means to me – being accepted by the Dalish. It's what my mother would have wanted for me."

Virae took in his tensed-up shoulders. "Is there something else bothering you?" Alistair wasn't looking at her, and she suspected he was avoiding looking at her Vallaslin. "I am a Grey Warden _first_, Alistair. I'm not going to run away to live with the Dalish. My home is with you now. As the only other Grey Warden in Ferelden, you're kind of stuck with me, you know."

He relaxed and smiled down at her, "I guess it is kind of pretty. Did it hurt?"

"Yes." She rolled her eyes. "Quite a bit."

"Well, that's OK then."

Virae punched him playfully, "I'm sure we can get Andraste's holy symbol tattooed on _your_ forehead."

* * *

They rendezvoused with Bodahn and Sandal at mid-day, and got started on the journey East, toward Redcliffe. By the time they made camp, Virae was looking forward to having some time to think and meditate.

She took Caraid with her and selected a quiet place apart from the camp to do her meditation. Virae settled in to her meditative pose, and Caraid sat next to her in guard position. He would alert her if need be, since during deep meditation, she tended to be unaware of her surroundings.

She ran over the events of the last several days in her mind. In particular, she thought about her encounter with the spirit of the Arcane Warrior, and how she had set him free. In return, he had poured out his memories into her mind. Virae was still unsure how to go about using those memories. Books she had acquired were like… well, books in her memory. Her own personal experiences were like pools of liquid, she could immerse herself in. The Arcane Warrior's memory was like a… a chest. A chest that was closed with a latch she hadn't figured out how to open.

Virae thought about the Lady of the Forest. Meeting her had been a powerful experience, she was like a part of the wild magic, blasphemously given form and substance. At the moment when Virae had agreed to help get Zathrian to end the curse, the Lady had touched her, and she'd felt something pass between them... a knowledge… and a feeling… an understanding of wolves.

Virae cleared her mind, connected with her flowing, sparkling, twirling mana pool, her living connection to the fade.

* * *

Morrigan had two cups of tea ready when Virae joined her at her personal campsite just after sunset. "How is your shape-shifting practice coming along?"

Virae took a sip of the tea, "I can control the cat instincts and maintain the shape for as long as I want to." She smiled, "but, I still can't shape shift my mage's robes. I've tried other clothing, but no success at all so far. One advantage to the cat-size is, I can practice in my tent."

Morrigan did not try to hide her feelings of superiority, "you may never be able to do it."

Virae was unperturbed by Morrigan's attitude, "I agree, that's why I'm going to accept that limitation for now. I'd like to try another animal."

Morrigan's eyebrows shot up, "What do you have in mind?"

"I'd like to try a wolf." Virae said hopefully.

* * *

Morrigan was obviously skeptical, but went with Virae into the woods anyway. She said, "Cats are more-or-less domesticated, but wolves are wild beasts. If you succeed, I suggest you concentrate on asserting your control over the wolf instincts as quickly as possible."

Virae undid her hair, dropping the pins into her pocket, then undressed quickly, shivering at the chill in the night air.

Virae crouched with just the balls of her feet and her fingertips touching the ground. She reached for her mana pool and began to visualize the wolf shape, it was illusive at first, then in the corner of her mind she heard the voice of the Lady of the Forest _'this is my gift, dear one'_. The shape and form of the wolf crystalized in her mind, and without consciously reaching for it, she felt a spark of the wild magic…

The world around her exploded with scent, one hundred times stronger than anything she had ever experienced. She was distinctly aware of the individual scent of every creature within at least a mile upwind, and the trails of various animals that had passed nearby. As her large ears scanned every direction and captured sounds from miles away, she felt as though she was aware of every living thing in the forest.

Her body was still about the same weight, but she felt so much more powerful. She had massive, strong jaws, a muscular body, narrow chest, slim legs and big feet. A body built for running long distances.

Vaguely, her elven mind knew there was something important she was supposed to do. The wolf mind knew only survival, and joy in being alive. She looked up at the creature next to her, who looked human, but smelled more like a wolf, and let out a high-pitched whine to say, 'come run with me'. Then she burst into motion.

Soon, the other wolf caught up, and together they ran, just for the fun of running. The forest was alive with scent, alive with sound. A deer passed this tree two hours ago. A pair of rabbits mated here this morning. Bats are swooping through swarms of insects two miles to the East. A weasel killed a squirrel there two days ago. She slowed and stopped when they came across the scent markings of another pack, and was surprised when her pack-sister turned on her, snarled and bared her teeth. Even more surprising, her form changed into that of a human.

"Virae! _Snap out of it_." Those sounds she was making were familiar…

Morrigan was irate, "You are an _elf_! You let the wolf instinct _take control_." She folded her arms and glared.

Virae's own mind reasserted itself slowly, _elf, yes, I'm an elf_... She willed herself to shift back into her own form.

"I'm sorry, Morrigan." She stood there shivering. "It was so powerful, it felt… so natural."

"Yes, well, do you think you can _try_ to control the wolf instinct?" she said angrily, "Because, we are about twenty miles from camp, and 'twill be a long walk back like this."

* * *

Morrigan smirked, "Lost in thought, Alistair? That must be unfamiliar territory."

It was still morning, they had just set out, and Alistair and Morrigan were already bickering. Well, not exactly bickering, Virae thought, that would require at least two participants. Morrigan was needling Alistair, and he was trying to ignore her.

Virae turned to the witch, "Ah, Morrigan, could you shift into hawk form and scout the next few miles, please?"

Morrigan scowled, but then the corner of her mouth turned up, "Perhaps the next animal you learn to shape shift should be a bird." Morrigan shot a significant glance at Alistair, and was gratified to see his head snap up. Then she shifted into hawk form and was gone.

"So…" Alistair looked sideways at Virae, "I guess you were shape-shifting again last night?"

Virae looked away evasively, she was dying to talk about the experience, but she knew Alistair didn't exactly approve. "I've been practicing the cat in my tent, but I wanted to try a new animal."

"What was it this time," Alistair smiled tentatively, "a rabbit? A mouse?"

"A wolf."

Leliana was watching them now.

Alistair shuddered, "Ah... Vie, you aren't planning to turn into a wolf during a fight are you?"

Virae inwardly cursed Morrigan, "No, no. It's just for fun. There are still…" she looked at Leliana, who was wearing a conspiratorial smile, "problems… that make it impractical for an actual fight. OK? So don't get your smalls in a twist."

Alistair rolled his eyes, "I'm just saying that…"

Their argument was interrupted before it really got underway when Morrigan-hawk dropped out of the sky and shifted into human form the moment she touched ground. "Tis an ambush prepared - about three miles ahead."

* * *

Virae looked thoughtfully at the unconscious elf. Unlike their other attackers, his armor and weapons were good quality and well cared for. He had blond hair, dark skin, a handsome face, and tattoos on his face that were not Dalish. He was lucky, too. If Alistair's shield bash hadn't knocked him unconscious, he would be dead along with the rest.

Virae would have preferred to simply kill him cleanly, but they needed information.

She sighed. It was her job as a Grey Warden to kill darkspawn. She hated killing people – elf, human, or dwarf.

Leliana helped her remove all his weapons. Virae was a little surprised both at the location of some of his throwing knives, and by the fact that Leliana knew where to look. Once he was securely tied up, Virae kneeled next to him and tested her mana pool. It was low, but she had enough to bring him to consciousness.

She summoned the healing energy, and lightly put a hand on each side of his head. She felt the damage there, and carefully began the healing process. As the magic worked, Virae widened her awareness to include the rest of his body – and almost fell backward in shock. His entire body was crisscrossed with the trace echoes of healing magic. Many of his past injuries had a regular pattern - this man had been tortured, repeatedly. She felt along his skeleton and saw where fractures had gone through growth plates, and was sickeningly stunned to realize that he had been beaten and tortured as a child - not just once, but many, many times.

As the elf groaned and started to wake up, Alistair pulled her to her feet. Virae drew a shaky breath and prepared to question her attempted assassin.

* * *

_Many thanks to Angry Girl for her support and encouragement!_


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10: A new companion**

* * *

It had been a tense day.

Virae sat in front of her tent, Caraid still in guard position next to her, considering the elf assassin. She felt uneasy - somehow a piece of information was missing - like one piece of a puzzle that would pull together everything she knew about him.

She possessed a reasonable collection of information about Antiva and the Antivan Crows. The geography, language, and history texts from the Circle library were not her only source. As an apprentice at the Circle tower, her main incentive for helping Senior Enchanter Leorah kill the giant spiders in the storage caves was that she could then search through the crates that were stored there. One especially dusty crate in a forgotten corner had contained a collection of books, including personal journals, belonging to a long-dead Circle mage who had lived in Antiva for over a decade. The mage had been a healer and herbalist, sent to Antiva with a Ferelden nobleman and his family as their personal physician.

The assassin's story, as well as the physical evidence of his Antivan Crow "training", were consistent with everything she knew. Still, something about the assassination attempt eluded her, and her uncertainty was affecting the companion's confidence in her decision not to kill the assassin.

Alistair in particular was not happy with her decision to spare the elf assassin's life, even if they did need all the help they could get. As a precaution, she had agreed to keep his weapons for the time being, at least until they were more confident that he would not try to kill them.

They spent the remainder of the day trying to put as much distance between themselves and the ambush site as possible. It had been an uncomfortable and mostly silent afternoon.

Virae stared intently at the elf for a few more minutes, trying to figure out what detail she had missed. Then she rubbed her temples, stood up, and stretched. Scratching Caraid behind the ears she said, "yes, mo chariad, you need a break too. I'll bet Sandal will throw a stick for you." Caraid barked happily and ran over to the dwarf's wagon.

She glanced back over at the elf, and caught him staring at her, his eyes raking up and down her body lasciviously. She gasped involuntarily as a shiver of desire swept through her body, and comprehension dawned on her at last. She had been trying so hard to analyze the overwhelming variety of details about Antivan Crows, she had completely overlooked one of the deadly weapons in the assassin's arsenal.

The man was devastatingly handsome.

The missing puzzle piece clicked into place, and Virae suddenly knew with complete confidence that accepting Zevran Araina's oath was the correct decision.

Now she just had to convince Alistair.

* * *

Zevran Arainai had draped himself casually against a log, affecting disinterest in the camp activities going on around him. Despite this outward appearance, he was acutely aware of exactly what was happening in camp. The large Qunari had carefully inspected the camp perimeter, evaluating it for defensibility, and was now setting up his tent. The tall, handsome Grey Warden had built a rather large campfire, and was now glaring at him grimly, his arms folded. The lovely Orlesian bard had begun some kind of food preparation near the campfire. The witch had set up her tent away from the rest and was currently nowhere to be seen. The fair elven Grey Warden had set up her tent and was sitting in front of it, the Mabari next to her, staring at him. Again.

Zevran had been stared at by beautiful women before, but this was most unusual. There was no veiled communication, no flirtation, only a frustrated stare, like she expected to see… something. And, he was sure that her eyes had been glowing just then…

Ever since waking up with his hands tied and a severe headache, Zevran had studied the companions carefully. The lovely elven mage was clearly the leader and had incomprehensively spared his life, but the others were not comfortable with her decision, and she appeared to retain some trepidation about the choice herself.

The ex-Templar was particular unhappy with Zeran's presence, and was once again glaring at him murderously. Zevran caught himself before he reached automatically for the reassuring handles of his daggers. She had taken all of his weapons while he lay unconscious after the fight. The empty sheaths made him feel naked in a far more uncomfortable way than a lack of clothing ever had.

The fair warden had stopped staring and was stretching with surprising grace, for a mage. Zevran watched as she stood and spoke affectionately to the Mabari who ran off toward the dwarf's wagon. As she turned an unguarded gaze in his direction, he smiled provocatively and ran his eyes over her lovely form.

He watched her eyes widen and heard her sudden intake of breath – this was more like the response he usually evoked in women. But then her eyes narrowed, and she regarded him with a confident smile.

She walked resolutely toward her fellow Grey Warden.

* * *

Virae found Alistair cleaning his sword while glaring at Zevran.

Before he could launch into an argument about the assassin, she said "We need to talk about the information Zevran had about Loghain."

Alistair pulled his eyes away from Zevran to look at her "You mean that he's a murdering bastard, and he wants us dead? We already knew that."

"On top of that," she smiled grimly, "He has declared himself regent, he has control of Denerim, and we have to assume he controls the Chantry there as well. And now, apparently, Howe is his right-hand man." Virae shook her head, "Loghain was a legendary strategist, how can he be so foolish to start a civil war in the middle of a Blight."

"The man is insane. He betrayed the king, his own son-in-law." Alistair said angrily. "Arl Eamon has influence with the Landsmeet, he'll know how to stop Loghain."

"Look, Alistair, I know you're anxious to see Eamon… but… my phylactery is in Denerim. If Loghain convinces the Chantry and the Templars to join him, it will be only too easy for them to chase me down…"

Alistair put down his sword and put a comforting arm around her shoulders, "you mean, chase _us_ down."

Virae turned into the half-embrace to face Alistair, and smiled gratefully up at him, "We need to go to the Circle of Magi first, and get their support against the Blight."

Alistair looked into her eyes for a few moments, then abruptly stepped back and cleared his throat. "What about the assassin?" They both turned to look at Zevran.

Alistair dropped his voice, "Did you figure out, you know, whatever it was that was bothering you? We really should execute him. He's dangerous."

"He's an elf. He can hear you." Virae put her hands on her hips and looked up at her fellow Grey Warden. "Yes I figured it out, and no, we definitely are not going to kill him."

"Well, then what are we going to do with him?" Alistair demanded.

With a confident smile, Virae calmly put her hand on Alistair's arm, looked him in the eye and said firmly, "For starters, I'm going to give back his weapons. He gave me his oath, and he won't be much help fighting darkspawn without weapons."

Alistair was, temporarily, speechless.

Virae knew he was a long way from accepting her decision, "Let's talk about it some more after dinner."

* * *

Zevran watched the intriguing mage, who might hold his fate in her hands, stroll over to the campfire. He was a little surprised to hear her speaking Orlesian, "_Leli, that smells wonderful!_" she gave the bard a casual hug.

"_And what of th__e __assassin?__" _the bard looked at him, then quickly looked back at Virae _,"__Are you sure we can trust him?_"

"_Trust is a tricky __concept__, Leliana, but__…__ I am reasonably sure that I understand his motives_."

Leliana ladled the stew into bowls, and Virae picked up two and walked over to where Zevran was still lounging against a log. She handed a bowl to him and then sat down a few feet away.

Zevran mulled over this odd turn of events, and surreptitiously observed the relaxed elf, so different from the lady warden he had studied all day. He tensed for the next round of questions, but she simply ate her meal in silence.

He asked, "Was that Orlesian I heard you speaking with the lovely bard?"

Virae looked at him sharply, "Do you speak it?"

Zevran decided not to reveal that he did. "I've picked up a few words, here and there… enough to order a drink", he smiled suggestively, "and enough to invite company to bed."

"Only the essential phrases, then." She chuckled, "_Have you ever been to __Orlais_?" she asked in Orlesian

Zevran affected a blank look, "My dear warden, you exceed my expertise."

She regarded him skeptically and set her empty bowl on the ground. "How's your head?"

Zevran put a hand to the large bump over his left eye that was the result of Alistair's shield bash, and shrugged "I've had worse".

Virae knelt in front of him. Crystal clear green eyes met wary amber, then her gaze moved to the bruise and she nodded seriously, "I could feel that." Then quietly, almost to herself, "You've had many, many injuries... and expert healers."

What did she mean by that?

Zevran smiled seductively, "None more lovely than you, my dear Warden."

Virae reached her hand toward Zevran, and stopped a few inches from his head. "May I?"

Zevran was perplexed; she was asking his permission to touch him? He nodded, and Virae gently touched his head. Zevran sighed as waves of healing energy radiated from her palm.

He noticed that she had a pleasant smell, like some culinary herb and… jasmine. Ah, jasmine grew everywhere in his warm Antiva city, and in the spring and summer, the delicate white blossoms filled the air with their sweet fragrance. Hmm, there was something else… a taste, like blood on the tongue... metallic, like mage lightening - dangerous and exciting.

Several minutes later she leaned back, "The lump is gone now, but you must tell me if you experience confusion or memory loss, or if you are feeling dizzy. If you have a concussion then you will need rest as well as healing magic to recover. Although…" She smiled slightly, "if you hadn't been knocked unconscious, you might not have survived to be questioned."

"If this rather pleasurable touching is the incentive, I may have to get wounded more often", he purred suggestively.

She smirked and stood up, "Just remember, I can't heal you if you're dead", her tone implying that she could be the cause of said death.

Virae picked up the two bowls and winked at Zevran. "I'll be returning your weapons in the morning," and then she turned and walked purposefully toward Alistair.

* * *

Zevran listened to the argument between the two Wardens go on late into the evening. He was surprised to find that the fair warden knew quite a bit about the history of Antiva and the Crows . She also seemed to understand the rather gruesome consequences he was likely to suffer at their hands for his failure. Most intriguing of all was her comprehension regarding the oath he had given her ("Alistair, it followed a very specific, traditional form").

Alistair's argument mostly consisted of repeating the same sentiment, "what part of 'he's an assassin and he tried to kill us' don't you understand!"

To Zevran's relief, Virae finally gave up on her logical and rational approach to the argument and said simply, "Alistair, you are just going to have to trust me on this one." Zevran exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

* * *

Zevran was lying on his bedroll slightly apart from the tents in camp, feigning sleep. The charming elven warden and Qunari were on last watch, talking occasionally in low tones, but for the most part, sitting in comfortable silence. The air was cool and crisp, here and there he could hear song birds signaling pre-dawn.

Zevran listened as the lovely elf made her way across the camp and into her tent, her footsteps distinct because she was lighter than the other companions. Her obvious attempt at moving stealthily failed completely.

He was curiously aware of her every movement as the mage walked slowly toward him, accompanied by the Mabari. She sat cross-legged an arm's length from his chest, and put something on the ground between them. He heard the sound of polished steel rubbing against polished steel, and realized she had carefully laid his daggers and throwing knives out on a cloth between them. The anticipation of having his weapons back, their comforting presence on his person a constant reassurance, tested his self control, but Zevran continued his slow steady breathing and considered the situation. This rather reminded him of a stall vendor setting up in a marketplace. She would give back his weapons, but she wanted something in return.

Zevran made a show of stretching languorously and opened his eyes to find her regarding him thoughtfully, "My dear warden," he purred, "have you come to join me in my bedroll? It's quite warm, I assure you, although" he pouted, "sadly lacking in privacy."

The hint of a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, "We will arrive at a village latter today. We should find a tent for you there. If not, you can use mine and Leli and I can share until we find one."

Zevran sat up slowly and let the blanket fall away from his bare chest, "Ah, but surely two elves would fit so much more… comfortably in one tent." He smiled seductively, and to his satisfaction, she blushed and looked away.

He watched her take a deep breath, reclaiming her composure, then cleared her throat and looked him in the eyes, "I believe we have a few things to discuss before I return these… tools… into your capable hands."

His eyes narrowed and then he carefully arranged his face into his most seductive smile, "what's on your mind, my delicious warden".

In a coy imitation of his accent she said, "My dear assassin, you are on my mind". She hesitated, and then leaned back on her hands, her eyes moving down to the knives between them, and then moving slowly over the tattoos on his naked chest, then up to his face to regard him provocatively through her eyelashes. Her voice was low and husky, "I do believe that you are the most handsome elf I have ever met."

Ah, these Fereldens, so disappointingly direct, he thought, taking all the anticipation and fun out of the game. Still, if this is what she plans to barter, I am most happy to oblige, "Flattery is not needed, you have only to invite me to your tent, if you're of a mind…" he smiled lasciviously.

She took a deep breath, exhaled with a sigh and leaned toward him, "and I would imagine that you are a master in the arts of seduction and… love making?"

Zevran leaned toward her, their lips only a few inches apart, his voice pitched low and compelling "As I will be only too delighted to demonstrate… you will find this trade most… satisfying."

Virae closed her eyes and whispered "I see…"

Abruptly Virae opened her eyes, leaned back, and gestured to the array of weapons between them. "Zevran, these are beautiful weapons. Each one finely and expertly crafted. Deadly in skilled hands… hands such as yours... Am I right?" Her voice was still breathy and seductive, but her eyes were bright and piercing.

That tingling sensation he usually felt when detecting a trap ran through his body. He was instinctively aware that she posed some danger to him, and his senses were instantly on alert. "Yes." He answered simply.

She picked up a dagger and examined it with a flourish, "in your hands, deadly. In my untrained hands, not so much", she smiled, "but even in your hands, if you attempt to cut a throat with the handle, you will fail."

Zevran kept his face carefully blank. More clever than I thought.

"I am no assassin, but I ask myself, why didn't this Crow arrange to meet us on the road, convince us of his selfless desire to defend Thedas from darkspawn, and join our little band? With some slow-acting poison you could easily have arranged for Alistair to die during a fight, and then seduced me and killed me in my sleep."

Anger was slipping around his composure, but as he looked into her face, Zevran was startled by the compassion he saw there.

"The Crows fashioned you into a deadly living weapon, with an irresistible lure. So why didn't you utilize the weapon you are to best advantage? Antivan Crows almost never work in groups of more than three, but you hired a bunch of Crow apprentices and thugs to help you ambush _Grey Wardens_." She paused and then whispered, "You did not intend to survive the fight."

Zevran almost let the shock show on his face. Almost.

"Our mission to end the Blight may seem suicidal. But every one of us loves life, and I think that's why we fight so hard. We survive because we watch each other's back and support each other. To keep your oath to me, I expect you to do the same. These people are my family, and I will not tolerate anyone putting them at risk to pursue his own death. Do we have an understanding?" She stared into his eyes for several moments until he nodded once.

"Right then", she stood up, brushing pine needles off her robes, the serious mood gone. She smiled down at him brightly, "welcome to our little group."

Zevran listened to her retreating footsteps as he automatically reached out for his main-hand dagger. He felt the satisfying comfort of its weight in his hand before smoothly slipping it into the sheath. He pulled on his armor and settled the rest of his weapons into place, feeling suddenly lighter as the tension of their absence vanished.

On the other side of camp the fair warden was intently engaged in a conversation with the Qunari, that somehow included the Mabari. Zevran smiled inwardly in anticipation. Beautiful, intelligent, insightful, as well as dangerous - an intriguing combination. She would succumb eventually, of that he had no doubt, and the pursuit promised to be delightfully challenging.

* * *

_Thanks again to Angry Girl for another review!_


	11. Chapter 11

_What is a self-proclaimed Dragon Age junkie doing – writing instead of playing Dragon Age II? Sadly, I was separated from my XBox all weekend. Darn that real life…_

* * *

**Chapter 11: On the road**

Virae leaned against an oak tree at the edge of a large clearing and watched the two rogues circle each other slowly, each holding two practice daggers. Zevran was stripped to the waste, those hypnotic tattoos his only armor, and Leliana was dressed in her usual light armor. The bard lunged toward the assassin, who blocked both daggers with his own and twisted around to land a light blow to the bard's side. Leliana spun, aiming a kick at Zevran's thigh; he jumped nimbly out of the way, just as her dagger skimmed his shoulder.

Soon they were moving so fast that she could barely make out each individual maneuver, but the clear ring of metal on metal resonated through the clearing. With a gasp and thud, both of Leliana's daggers were suddenly thrown clear and Zevran had Leliana pinned to the ground.

"My lovely bard," Zevran drawled as he stood up with exaggerated reluctance, "it seems that after two years in the Chantry, you have forgotten how to handle a… dagger." The elf leered and offered her a hand up. "After all that time you must need some… release. I would be only too happy to assist…"

Leliana scowled at his hand and stood without his help, "Not if you were the last man in Thedas, Zevran."

The assassin shrugged and the two began circling each other again.

Virae chuckled. Zevran flirted outrageously with everyone in the party. He'd quickly given up on Sten, who gave no reaction at all, and Alistair who had turned bright red and drawn his sword. But he still delighted in teasing Leliana and antagonizing Morrigan with his obvious double entendre and sexual innuendo.

As for herself, she found Zevran's unsubtle suggestive banter to be humorous and entertaining. It reminded her of the time she spent in the Circle Tower as a teen apprentice, relaxing with peers. After that one incident with Cullen, none of the male mages or apprentices dared meet her at any of the usual private hiding places around the Tower, but that didn't stop them from flirting with her outrageously, especially if Cullen was nearby. She mused, how many different ways are there to compare a sword/dagger/staff to a phallus? With Zevran around, she might just find out.

The handsome elf was a deadly ally – not even Alistair could deny that. On that second day he was with them, only a few hours after she returned his weapons, they were attacked by a large group of darkspawn, and he had fought brilliantly. He appeared and disappeared next to the enemies engaged by Alistair or Sten, marking their weak points, and then would maneuver unseen to flank another darkspawn and deliver a lethal backstab. Zevran was still reluctant to teach his assassin skills to Lelianna, and she was reluctant to teach him her bard skills. But, he had agreed to help her improve her dual weapon technique, and Leliana had started teaching him to pick locks.

The sun came out from behind a cloud, and Zevran appeared to be momentarily blinded by the sunlight reflected off Leliana's practice dagger. She kicked his foot out from under him, and the two landed with another thud, but this time the bard was straddling the assassin and holding a blade to his throat.

Leliana smiled triumphantly, until Zevran chuckled and said, "This compromising position is quite comfortable, no?"

The bard was up in an instant, and they began circling again.

Virae turned away to hide her smile, and reached behind her to touch the handles of the two daggers sheathed next to her staff. She'd been carrying them ever since she freed the arcane warrior, but she still had only a rudimentary idea of how to use them. Watching the rogues spar had given her an idea.

Virae hurried across the field to the main camp to collect Caraid. The delicious aroma of roasting venison wafted from where Sten was presiding over the camp fire. She and Morrigan in wolf form, along with Caraid, had brought down a deer the night before. The cat form had been fun and interesting, but the wolf form felt completely natural - the wolf mind had such clarity and focus – and once she made the effort, the wolf instinct was easy to control. It was Alistair's turn to cook tonight, and even though she could keep the venison frozen with a periodic winter's breath spell, everyone was relieved when Sten insisted on roasting it tonight.

Virae called Caraid to her side and headed upstream from camp, the sounds of the two rogues' practice session fading behind her. She found a slightly secluded, small open area and positioned herself to meditate as usual, and began thinking of the Arcane Warrior's memories, like a chest in her mind. She had tried unsuccessfully to open it before, but this time she would try the ancient elven words to describe arcane warriors. She whispered "_Vir mi_", the way of the blade.

It was as if the lid of the chest opened and a tangle of hazy, indistinct thoughts were jumbled together before her. These memories were completely unlike her own. She wondered if this was the way other people remember, or if the memories were so disorganized and vague because the spirit had been separated from his body for so long and was nearly mad by the time she released him. Gradually she sorted through the top layer, and found bits and pieces of the knowledge the spirit had promised. She pulled together the fragments of the combat-magic spell that would allow her to channel her magic into physical strength, and use it to fight as a warrior.

Curious about what other memories were passed on to her by the spirit, she reached deeper into the chest. Her mind was flooded with more indistinct images, and she realized she was seeing the arcane warrior's life. Only a few images were clear. The face of a beautiful young woman he loved deeply – his wife, she realized. She saw his children, first as young children, then as adults dressed as warriors. The same woman, still beautiful, but older and… somehow her aging is connected with anger. A last image of the crumpled lifeless bodies of his wife and children… overwhelming despair, and then… nothing.

Virae wiped the tears from her eyes and concentrated on the last layer. At first, this memory seemed to be even more vague - there were no images, only sensations. She realized it was a memory of physical movement, of muscles pulling and pushing, shifting balance, heightened awareness, sweat, labored breath, steel as an extension of her own body. This layer contained the arcane warrior's memories of practicing weapon forms.

With a growing sense of anticipation and excitement, Virae stood up and pulled her daggers from their sheaths. She whispered the spell, and for the first time, the blades were comfortable in her hand, not heavy and awkward as they had been before. She concentrated, and began to move slowly through the forms, solidifying each precise movement in her own body and mind. The feeling of power, of dangerous energy was exhilarating. Her body felt agile and graceful in a way that she had only experienced when she shape-shifted a cat. Similar to her wolf form, her body felt strong, fierce, and vividly aware of her surroundings. She reveled in the power and deadliness coursing through her own body.

She began to tire. Despite her magic being channeled into strength, her body was unaccustomed to this type of exercise, and by the time she ran through each dual weapon form at least three times, her muscles were screaming for rest.

Finally she stopped, euphoric and exhausted. In her heightened state of awareness she had seen Alistair approach her half-way through the forms. As she re-sheathed her daggers, eyes still glowing, she looked up at him to find that he was staring, mouth gaping open.

Virae smiled hugely and threw her arms exuberantly around his neck, "Oh Alistair, I did it - I worked out the arcane warrior spell!"

Her happiness melted a bit as she felt him stiffen. She concentrated on letting go of her connection with the fade and pulled away from him, touching the metal part of his gauntlets to discharge any residual electrostatic energy before accidentally shocking him. She knew the moment her eyes stopped glowing because Alistair relaxed. Dropping her hands, she looked at him doubtfully, "Umm, what are you doing here?"

Alistair ran a hand uncomfortably through his hair, "Well, ah, dinner is almost ready. And, umm… Leliana came back to camp _alone_ after her practice session with the assassin…"

Virae rolled her eyes, "And you were just checking up on me? Did you expect to find Zevran here?"

"I just don't trust him, Vie." Alistair said stubbornly, "He could still try to kill you."

"We've been through this before. He could, but he won't." Virae was exasperated, "He gave me his oath, Alistair."

Alistair took one of her hands and said, "I just could not bear for anything to happen to you."

Virae took his other hand in hers, and smiled sardonically up at him, "If you really want to waste energy worrying about that, there's any number of other people and darkspawn that want to kill _both_ of us."

Alistair looked into her eyes, and to her surprise, leaned down and kissed her. She slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him back fervently for a few moments, until he took her hands in his and gently pushed her away with a nervous chuckle, "let's not get ahead of ourselves."

Virae nodded and looked away to hide her frustration and disappointment. With a sigh she took his arm and they turned to walk back to camp.

"What were you saying about an 'arcane warrior' spell?" Alistair asked reluctantly, "Is that what gave you the, ah, ability to use those daggers?"

Virae's earlier excitement started to come back, "I can channel my magical power through my body and into the strength and skill to wield a combat weapon! And I think…" her eyes glowed briefly, "…Yes! It will work with any weapon set - sword and shield, or two-handed, as well as dual weapons…"

* * *

Zevran was observing the mage warden invisibly from the shadows. She would do this almost every evening – go off on her own, and meditate for a few minutes to an hour, with only the Mabari guarding her - the perfect opportunity for an assassin. It was not too late to finish the job his Crow masters had contracted him to do. He could still kill both of them and return to Antiva, but he found that he did not want to.

The intelligence reports supplied by Rendon Howe had been accurate in regards to the wardens' location, but inaccurate in regard to almost everything else, including the wardens themselves. The report had concluded that the human warrior was the leader, and the elven mage accompanying him little more than his bed-partner. Of course, he knew from his own experience that it was not unusual for humans to underestimate elves.

As a Crow, his cell had temporarily allied with other cells to complete a contract, but the reward had been gold, and most importantly, reputation. Zevran had never before been part of a group of this size that was not held together and motivated by greed and intimidation.

This group was held together by a passionate dedication to a common – if insanely impossible - cause. And, this elven woman was the cohesion uniting them.

A stray thought of Rinna slipped past his carefully constructed wall before he pushed it back. The fair warden had guessed correctly, he had planned to die in his attempt to kill the last Grey Wardens in Ferelden. But, when faced with his own death, he found he wanted to live. Desperation had driven him to beg for his life and offer his oath. Perhaps it was a stroke of fate - that tricky whore - to be given his life, and a chance to leave the Crows, at the same time.

He watched as the elven mage unsheathed her daggers. Earlier that day he had teased her about playing with weapons she didn't know how to handle. She had laughed easily, but before he could continue his attempt to evoke a blush, they were interrupted by the jealous ex-Templar. So Zevran was surprised now when, eyes luminous, she began moving through a dual weapon form.

He observed the form curiously; it was similar in some ways to forms he knew, although she was obviously unaccustomed to moving in that way.

Alistair's arrival was expected, and Zevran was unsurprised to be the topic of their conversation. The ex-templar was right to be concerned about her safety with him around. Zevran felt a little uncomfortable hearing the lovely elf tell the other warden that she trusted his oath. How can it be that just by trusting him, she made him want to be trustworthy?

The two wardens were definitely not bed-partners, he thought, as he watched the awkward kiss. And, clearly that rather humorous situation was the warrior's choice and not hers, at least so far.

* * *

**Elvish Words **(borrowed from the Dragon Age wiki)

_Mi_: blade.

_Vir_: way or path.

_Thank you to everyone who has added my story to their Favorite Stories and Story Alerts! A big Thank You to my reviewers, Angry Girl and jubamischin!_


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12: a Night at an Inn**

_As mentioned briefly in Chapter 1, Virae had another close friend at the Circle tower besides Jowan, named Alain. Alain comes up again briefly in this chapter, and probably in the next._

* * *

Virae was looking forward to a real bed, a warm bath, and an opportunity to wash her mage's robes properly. Her robes were still spattered with blood from their encounter with bandits on the road shortly before they arrived, and she was feeling jittery from taking more lyrium potions than she was accustomed to. Usually she only needed to take one or two vials during a skirmish, but Alistair was standing too close to her when he used his cleanse-area templar skill, then she saw Zevran go down, and swallowed a potent lyrium potion before she realized he was only using his feign-death skill. For the first time, she understood how templars could become addicted to the stuff, she felt edgy… and more awake in a slightly artificial way.

The Grey Warden party arrived in the little village of Kendal in the late afternoon. Virae sent Alistair and Leliana to the Inn to hire rooms for the night – she was not in the mood to argue with an innkeeper about allowing elves to stay there. Sten headed straight for the bakery, and Morrigan was visiting the apothecary to get potion-making supplies. The two elves and Mabari were waiting in an inconspicuous corner of the small marketplace watching the small crowd of villagers gathered to peruse Bodahn's wares.

Ever since Zevran joined their group, Alistair had been more solicitous than usual, hardly ever leaving her alone with the Antivan elf. He even took last watch with her, and helped her practice with melee weapons. Virae was beginning to think Alistair might have changed his mind, and she was hoping that tonight he would join her in the privacy of her room.

In spite of that, Virae was pleased to have the opportunity to talk to Zevran without Alistair hovering over them. She felt the lump in her pocket; she had a gift for him.

/*/

Zevran was leaning against the wall, insolently watching the dozen or so humans around Bodahn's cart with hooded eyes. Virae looked over at the crowd and noticed a tall young human man, staring at the Antivan elf with obvious desire. She chuckled to herself, he really was like a glamour charm lure.

Virae turned to her fellow elf, "Zev, your Crow training included reading and writing Antivan, yes?"

"It did." He sounded a little offended, and regarded her from the corner of his eyes "Of course I can read and write Antivan. Why do you ask?"

Virae cocked her head to the side, "Will you teach me to speak Antivan?"

Zevran turned to look directly at her, "My dear warden, that could take years." He answered doubtfully.

"Oh please, I'm a good student." She said hopefully, "I learned to speak Orlesian from Leliana." Zevran raised an eyebrow.

Virae conceded, "Well, actually I taught myself to _read _Orlesian when I lived at the tower. Leliana has been teaching me how to pronounce it correctly."

"I thought you Fereldens threw out everything to do with Orlais, especially their language."

"The Chantry seems to take a little different view… with their headquarters in Orlais, and of course the Chant of Light was originally written in Orlesian. There were quite a few Orlesian books in the Circle library."

And, she thought, there were those Orlesian books she found at Arl Eamon's estate in Denerim. She carried those books around in her head throughout her childhood, wondering what was in them. Finally, as a teen, curiosity drove her to find a Ferelden/Orlesian dictionary in the Circle library. Most of the books were histories – told from the Orlesian point of view, but there was one book… once she understood what it was about… Virae blushed slightly. She supposed it wasn't so unusual for an older Ferelden nobleman married to a young Orlesian woman to have a book like _that_ in his library. Her friend Alain took particular delight in helping translate it – Virae would write out a few sentences in Orlesian from her memory on a slate, and together they would figure out what it meant in Ferelden. It was a painstaking but entertaining process - and Alain, at least, had industriously put theory into practice.

Zevran was regarding her thoughtfully, "Why do you wish to learn Antivan?"

"Well, I like to collect… information and stories… I came across a crate in the storage caves at the Circle – it contained some books that belonged to a mage who had been the personal healer for a Ferelden noble family living in Antiva for some years. There was a book of poetry, and even though I translated it, poetry is so much better when you can hear it."

"Oh, and do you have this book hidden about your person?" he said, looking her up and down in way that made her shiver.

"In a manner of speaking, I do."

Virae explained how she remembered everything. He seemed skeptical, so she demonstrated by reading from a book of Antivan history, and then she asked, "Do you remember that conversation we had about the Dalish?"

"I remember we talked about them, yes" he responded doubtfully.

"Well, this is part of our conversation." She cleared her throat and concentrated.

* * *

_In a close but slightly higher approximation of his own voice, Zevran heard her begin,_"My original point is that my mother's Dalish nature was always a point of fascination for me. Through all the years of my Crow training, the one thing of my mother's that I possessed was a pair of gloves. They were of Dalish make, I knew that much, and beautiful. I had to keep them hidden, of course, as we were not allowed such things. Eventually they were discovered, and I never saw them again."

"But you don't think of yourself as Dalish." _Said Virae's own voice_.

_The voice similar to his own said "_Not at all. I think of myself as Antivan. Still, that did not stop me from running off to join a clan when it drew near Antiva City, once. Naturally the reality did not live up at all to the fantasies I had constructed as a boy, staring at those gloves. But such is life." (1)

* * *

Zevran simply stared at her for a minute or two, and then said "my dear warden, you have tremendous potential as a spy."

Virae laughed lightly, "I would make a terrible spy, I'm a dreadful liar!"

"Oh, I don't know about that." He drawled, "you were very convincing the other morning when you persuaded me of your desire for my presence in your bed in exchange for my weapons."

"Ah…" Flustered, she met his smug smile briefly, and then looked awkwardly away. The ruse _had_ worked better than she expected. She admitted to herself it was because she wasn't pretending to be attracted to him. But, she simply could not act on that attraction.

Virae's face was grave as she looked him in the eye, "Zevran Araina, I am _not_ your master. I am your leader. As your leader I have accepted your oath to serve my cause. Inviting you to my bed in exchange for your weapons, your life, or anything else would be…." she smiled guilelessly, "… inappropriate and dishonorable."

Zevran frowned, apparently that was not the response he anticipated.

"So," she rested her hand on his shoulder, "will you teach me to speak Antivan? Please?"

"If that is how you wish to make use of my very skilled tongue…" Zevran leered, "Why not?"

Virae was delighted, "Speaking of the Dalish, I have something for you." She handed him the pair of Dalish gloves she acquired in the Brecilian forest.

* * *

Virae was relishing how good it felt to be clean – really clean. She might have spent the whole evening in the bath if Leliana hadn't been waiting for her turn. Dinner at the Inn had been shepherd's pie. Not as good as anything Leliana or Morrigan could make, but much better than Alistair's lamb and peas stew.

They were all lounging around the common area of the Inn. Morrigan sat at a small table in the corner with Caraid, Virae sat between Alistair and Leliana at a large table, and Sten sat on Alistair's other side, systematically working his way through a large bag of cookies. Zevran had sauntered over to the bar and was alternately flirting with the tall young man from the market and the buxom bar maid.

"I can't believe you never drank beer before. Go ahead and try it," Alistair said, "it's Redcliff ale - the best in Ferelden!"

Virae eyed the pint-sized glass of frothy amber liquid doubtfully. Aaron, her mentor, once said that mages shouldn't mix alcohol and lyrium, but he didn't explain why. Beer and wine weren't allowed in the tower, so it was kind of a moot point at the time. Virae took a tentative sip. It was good… a little bitter - she detected an herb – hops? Hmm, it had an almost bread-like aftertaste. Before she knew it, her glass was empty, and Alistair was handing her another one.

Leliana got out her lute, and sang a beautiful ballad about lovers that became stars in the sky. Then Alistair taught everyone a drinking song he learned during his early days with the Grey Wardens. It was good to see Alistair remembering those good times without lapsing into depression. Even Zevran's two admirers joined in. As Virae finished off her second pint of beer, she found that she just couldn't help laughing at everything anyone said. She was even laughing at Alistair's jokes that she had already heard more than a few times.

Virae felt good in a slightly unreal way, like her brain was partially disconnected from her body. As she was navigating her way across the room to ask the barkeep exactly how beer was made, she lost her balance.

Zevran appeared suddenly and caught her before she hit the ground. He graciously relinquished her to Alistair, who wrapped a possessive arm around her a moment later.

"Would you like me to walk you to your room?" Alistair asked eagerly.

Virae smiled happily up at him, "Yes indeed."

* * *

Virae was standing in her room, alone, resting her head on the closed door. What just happened? She looked down at the rose in her hand, and then over at the empty bed. The bed she _thought_ would be occupied by Alistair and her _together _by now. He'd seemed so eager to get her alone; she thought he'd changed his mind. She looked at the rose again and replayed part of the conversation in her mind…

… "I picked it in Lothering. I remember thinking, how could something so beautiful exist in a place with so much despair and ugliness? I thought maybe I could say something. Tell you what a rare and wonderful thing you are to find amidst all this…darkness." (1)

"Oh, by the bloody gates of the black city!" She groaned, "He never intended to share my bed tonight."

Feeling more than a little frustrated and a little dizzy from the beer and the lingering affects of a small lyrium overdose, Virae decided that she ought to take advantage of the real bed by getting some sleep, at the very least. It wasn't long before she drifted off…

She finds herself in a familiar place - the Circle library. She turns to the sound of "pssst", and she sees… Alistair… dressed in mage's robes, beckoning her from behind a bookcase. She pauses to check that there are no Templars watching, and eagerly slips into the alcove with him. She throws her arms around his neck and suddenly the length of his body is pressed against hers as he embraces her without hesitation. She closes her eyes as his lips press against hers, his tongue exploring deeply, one of his hands in her hair, the other reaching for the clasp holding her robes together…

Abruptly the mage is grabbed from behind and thrown away from her with a crash. Her eyes fly open to see Cullen turning to her, his eyes burning with anger. She steps back and starts to summon a lightning bolt, but he dispels it immediately. He shoves her against the wall and holds her there with his body, her hands trapped between them, one of his hands firmly covering her mouth, the other hand caressing her throat. She looks into his face and sees that the whites of his eyes have the blue-tinge of lyrium overdose. The hand over her mouth slowly relaxes, and he runs his thumb over her bottom lip and whispers, "So beautiful. So dangerous." The scream builds in her throat, but is muffled by his mouth crushing hers as he wraps both hands around throat…

Virae woke up with a start. "Just a dream, it was just a dream" she repeated to herself with relief. She took a deep breath and looked around the room, the table was… floating. The walls were… indistinct. She shuddered; she was in the fade. Virae got out of the bed and opened the door. The black city beckoned, unattainable in the distance. She took a few steps and wasn't surprised to find herself in a completely different place. She was surrounded by cavernous stone… an underground city in ruins, with stone walls and a high ceiling. Virae felt an irresistible pull toward a large gap in the floor ahead. As she crept slowly closer she could see that is was a gigantic trench. Summoning her courage, she peeked over the edge to see… darkspawn. Hundreds, maybe thousands of darkspawn moving in waves. The ground she is standing on trembles, then again, and again. Footsteps… the ground is shaking under the footsteps of a massive creature! Virae whirls around to face it. It's the archdemon – a high dragon. The head alone bigger than she is, only thirty yards away.

She is frozen in place. _Wake up!_ She wills herself to wake, even as she is staring numbly at the corrupted beast and its mouth opens in a deafening roar "**Is mise Urthemiel**!"

_Wake up!_ The ground shakes again as it takes another step toward her, **"****Dìoghlaidh an coireach agus neo-choireach ris!"**it bellows.

_Wake up!_ This time she nearly loses her balance as the monster takes another step, it's mouth almost seeming to grin, "**Sgriosaidh mi Thedas agus cha stad sibh mi**!"

The creature pulled its head back – _WAKE UP!_ – then swung its head in a wide arc, blasting acid flames from its gaping jaws, the inferno sweeping right for her…

Virae woke screaming and skittered out of the bed to land huddled in the corner of the room.

* * *

(1) _These are quotes from in-game dialogue. (Which I usually try to avoid - because what fun is that - but in this case it sort of works, I hope.)_

_Back in chapter 3 when the Mabari war hound joined the companions, I said I would __somewhat arbitrarily __use __G__à__idhlig (Scottish Gaelic)__ for the Tevinter language__.__ The imitated pronunciation is only approximate.__If there are any native __G__à__idhlig__ speakers reading this, please let me know if I got it wrong! _

**Is mise **Urthemiel**. **(_iss misha_) Urthemiel. "I am Urthemiel."

**Dìoghlaidh an coireach agus neo-choireach ris**. (_JEE-o-lee an COR-roch a-gus neo-CHOR-roch reesh_)

"The guilty and innocent will suffer."

**Sgriosaidh mi** Thedas **agus cha stad sibh mi**. (_SCREE-see me_ Thedas _a-gus cha stat shiv me.)_

"I will destroy Thedas and you (plural) will not stop me."

And a reminder:

**caraid**, (_CAR-__r__ich_) "friend" (male gender)

**mo charaid** (_mo __C__H__AR-__r__ich_) "my friend"


	13. Chapter 13

_I have been in story-update-limbo for 6 days now, I kept getting "Error Type 2"! Many thanks to Brelaina for helping me figure out how to get around that!_

* * *

**_A Night at an Inn, part 2_**

_

* * *

_

Out of habit, Zevran kept to the shadows as he ghosted his way through the village and back to the Inn, slipping in through the kitchen. He listened carefully in the hallway before moving silently toward his room. Passing Virae's room, he heard her sigh and murmur "Alistair". Ah, thought the assassin, the ex-Templar is not so foolish as he seems. Earlier that evening he overheard Alistair practicing his sentimental speech – apparently it had the desired effect on the lovely mage. Zevran had watched the two wardens retire to their rooms together, before pursuing his own diversion for the evening.

A few moments later Virae's muffled scream brought the assassin back to her door instantly. An electrostatic shock stung him as he touched the metal latch. Finding it unlocked, he unsheathed his daggers and opened the door cautiously. The air in the small room was humming with energy, the metallic tang of mage lightening almost overwhelming the fair warden's jasmine and rosemary scent. The room was dark, the bed was a mess, and Virae was alone, huddled on the floor with her knees drawn up to her chest. The palms of her hands were pressed to her forehead, fingers in her tousled hair, so that the long auburn locks were standing out, crackling with static electricity.

Zevran re-sheathed his daggers, then closed and locked the door behind him. He noticed the rose on the table as he turned up the lamp, and then turned uncertainly to regard the elven woman panting and shaking on the floor for a moment. She was usually so confident and fearless. He moved slowly around the bed and knelt cautiously next her. "Bad dream?"

Glowing eyes in a tear-streaked face turned toward the assassin, and for a few heartbeats electricity crackled from her fingertips. Her hands slowly closed into fists, she blinked, and then clear green eyes met warm amber. "Bad doesn't really cover it." She closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest. Zevran put an arm around her and gently stroked her hair, the static electricity tingling as it crackled and discharged with tiny flashes of light. Her hair was so soft, in contrast to the tiny static shocks it gave him with each caress. It was an oddly pleasant sensation.

Why wasn't Alistair here with her? Simultaneously vulnerable and dangerous, she was an intriguing creature. Briefly he considered brushing his lips along her throat and slipping his hand under the light cotton fabric of her night-shift… Ah, but then she might draw back and tell him to leave… and besides, he was well and truly spent from his earlier evening endeavors.

He pulled a blanket from the bed, wrapped it around her, then gently picked her up blanket and all, and set her on the bed. He settled her into a comfortable position cuddled against him. "Tell me", he whispered.

The elven mage sighed, "It started as a… variation… of a recurring nightmare I used to have when I lived in the tower. About something that happened..." She turned her face into his chest and took a deep breath – it seemed to relax her.

Zevran was surprised at how… protective he suddenly felt toward this alluring and deadly woman, "What happened?" he prompted softly.

He heard her swallow as she put a hand to her throat, "Cullen… a Templar… was sort of obsessed with me. There was one time… he found me with another mage and lost control… " She took a shaky breath, "Luckily another Templar intervened before Cullen killed me, and the other mage wasn't seriously hurt. The Chantry blamed his 'over-reaction' on a lyrium overdose. And, it never happened again."

Zevran inexplicably felt angry at this human he had never met. "You said the dream _started_ that way…?"

She shivered, "Then I woke up in the fade. I wandered and… I've read about the deep roads, I was there, I think. I saw the darkspawn hoard, and... I saw the Archdemon." She shuddered.

His embrace tightened, "You have these dreams of darkspawn and the Archdemon often, no?"

"This was different," she shook her head, "this time the dragon… the Archdemon… spoke to me."

Virae took a shaky breath, "He was speaking Tevinter, but I… I understood. He said", she swallowed, "I am Urthemiel. The guilty and innocent will suffer. I will destroy Thedas and you will not stop me."

They were both quiet for a few minutes. Zevran considered what it must be like, to experience dreams fully conscious and to remember them clearly afterwards. For his part, he was quite happy to forget the horrors of his own dreams. "This walking the fade is something mages do often, no?"

The elven warden nodded, "Mages can remember being in the fade when they dream. And, well, I always remember. It's unusual to meet other dreamers, normally that would require a large amount of lyrium. It was like the Archdemon was hunting me, or calling to me. And maybe… well, I drank too many lyrium potions when we were fighting those bandits… and then I was drinking beer… There might have been an interaction between the lyrium and alcohol." She lifted her head up from where it was resting against Zevran's chest and smiled crookedly up at him. "Remind me not to do that again."

The lovely mage settled against him again, and was quiet for a few minutes. Her breathing slowed down, and Zevran began to wonder if she had fallen asleep. She felt very comfortable in his arms, and the memory of the last time he had lain in bed with another person, just holding them for mutual comfort, came unbidden to mind. Rinna…

Abruptly Virae took in a quick breath and sat up slightly, looking him up and down. She smiled slyly, "I'm not keeping you from Jason, am I? Or did you choose Kate?"

He decided to tease her a little and feigned ignorance, "Jason? Kate? Of whom are you speaking?"

Virae snorted, "As I recall… Jason: tall, brown eyes, dark hair, muscular body. And, the barmaid Kate: large bosom, blond hair, blue eyes. Surely you remember those two humans that were following you around with puppy-dog eyes all evening."

Zevran smiled sardonically "Hmm, your descriptions are most apt. I left them sleeping together in each other's arms, not an hour ago."

He was gratified by the momentary shock on her face, and the blush that bloomed in her cheeks and crept up to her pointed ears "Both?" she rolled her eyes and leaned back against the pillow. "Well," she said mischievously, "at least the two of them can comfort each other when they wake up and find you've gone."

"Ah, my dear warden, you have found me out." He smiled wickedly, "I am a hopeless romantic at heart, dedicated to bringing couples together." She curled toward him and rested her head against his chest again, her body shaking with mirth.

Zevran's curiosity got the better of him, "Speaking of couples, if I may ask, I am a bit surprised that I am sharing your bed at the moment, instead of your fellow Grey Warden."

He regretted asking almost immediately, because she stiffened and her light mood was gone. "So am I, and..." She scowled, "no. You may not ask," she huffed, then yawned hugely.

Zevran reluctantly began to disentangle himself from the fair elf, "time for you to sleep, my dear warden." Her hand lingered on his shoulder and both of them watched it slide down his arm as he pulled slowly away. Could it be that she wanted him to stay?

Like any Crow, concealing his true feelings was second nature to him. Even elves raised in an alienage kept their emotions hidden, and he had observed her doing so when dealing with humans in the village. But usually, Virae's feelings were transparent; it gave her an innocent, child-like quality that was deceptively disarming.

He watched her face now… doubt, desire, guilt, compassion, uncertainty, regret, and finally resolution passed over her features. "Goodnight, Zev."

He turned down the lamp and stepped toward the door.

"Zev?" he paused with his hand on the latch and turned to look at her, "You're a good man. _Gracias_."

Zevran wordlessly closed and locked the door behind him.

* * *

**At the Circle**

They arrived at the Spoiled Princess Inn, two days later. Virae was beside herself with worry after talking to Kester the Ferryman and that Templar who was guarding the Ferry, about what might be going on at the Circle Tower. She asked everyone to get ready to go as soon as possible, and then took Morrigan aside.

"Morrigan, I can't risk bringing you to the Circle. It's too dangerous." Virae said firmly.

Morrigan sniffed, "I can handle a few Templars."

"Yes, I know you can handle a few Templars, especially in the wilds. But, there is a small army of Templars in there, and I just could not stand for you to be captured and worse - made tranquil." She sighed heavily and brushed a strand of hair away from her face. "And unfortunately… Alistair was right about one thing, at least. Having an apostate by my side could discredit me and hurt my chances of persuading the Circle of Magi as well as the Templars to honor the Grey Warden treaty."

Morrigan scowled and crossed her arms in front of her.

"Listen, Morrigan, I want you to keep an eye on things here – we'll be sort of cornered on the island. Keep an eye out for Loghain's soldiers, or anyone else that might want to trap us there. I will send word to the Spoiled Princess Inn if I think it's safe for you to come to the tower."

"You – you be careful too." The witch said irritably. "It would be such a nuisance to have to rescue you if the Templars lock you up."

She smiled, "Don't worry about me, I am very good at playing the part of a _tame_ mage, and worst case scenario, I already know that cats can get in and out of the cells where they keep apostates."

* * *

Virae's shudder mirrored Leliana's own as Knight Commander Greagoir's men barred the door behind them. The usually cheerful elf was tense and worried, but when she turned resolutely away from the door to face her companions, there was steel in her eyes. "If the Rite of Annulment arrives while we're still in here, _I will be culled with the rest_." She turned to Alistair and looked him in the eye. "If that happens, _do not_ retaliate. Greagoir is a reasonable man. Convince him that the Templar army must honor the Grey Warden treaty."

Alistair grasped her upper arms and nearly lifted her off the floor. Leliana thought he would yell at her, but his voice was low and penetrating. "Why would you risk yourself like this? You are a Grey Warden. Ending the Blight comes first. What if I can't do it without you?"

Virae's face softened, "I'm sorry, Alistair. It's the right thing to do. I… we… have to try."

Alistair sighed, "I guess I wouldn't expect anything less from you."

"Oh, and Alistair?" The steel was back in Virae's eyes, "If something does happen to me, you absolutely _could_ end the Blight without me if you had to."

It was so like Virae to think nothing of risking her own life, and Leliana did not like the direction this conversation was going. "No one's going to die today, because if you do I swear I'll write a terribly embarrassing ballad about it." That got a smile out of Alistair, but Virae's face was still grim.

* * *

They quickly made their way to a large room with a small group of mages and children, where a powerful white-haired mage was maintaining a magical barrier at the door to the rest of the tower. Virae seemed to know everyone there, especially the children. The six children in the room converged around her, five humans and one elf, and for several long minutes the elven warden seemed to be swallowed up in one big hug. Watching them, Leliana felt a little uncomfortable to be intruding on this moment, and, for the first time in her life, she wondered what it would be like to have children of her own. Virae kissed each one on the forehead and called them by name, tears running freely down her face. If the bard didn't know better, she might have thought those were the elf's own children.

Virae brushed the tears from her eyes and turned to the two young mages, "Petra! Kinnon!" she hugged them both, "Thank the Creators you're all right! Have you seen Alain? Where are the rest of the children?"

Petra and Kinnon looked unhappily at each other, and then Petra explained how Wynne had saved her from a demon, and nearly died. Then they came across Irving, who held back an abomination so that she and Wynne could get the children to safety.

Kinnon said, "I think Alain was supervising the other children on kitchen duty when this started, but we haven't seen them."

Virae turned an determined face to the powerful white-haired mage, "Senior enchanter Wynne? We're here to help."

* * *

_Many thanks to my reviewers, Brelaina and Angry Girl! _


	14. Chapter 14

_It's taken me awhile to update... I have been very distracted by DA2!_

**Many, many thanks to Brelaina, my extremely helpful Beta Reader for this chapter!**

* * *

**Chapter 14: A talk with an old friend after the battle for the Circle Tower**

Virae woke up to find herself in an unfamiliar bed. Looking around at the cold stone walls, she knew she was still in the tower, alone in one of the four-bed dormitory rooms usually shared by junior mages. Each bed had a desk and chest next to it, and each section was adorned with the personal effects of the mage who occupied that living space. The bed next to the one she was currently sitting on was Alain's. Virae recognized the map of Ferelden hanging on the wall, next to a sketch that Petra had once drawn of Alain and Virae together. She also recognized a watercolor painting Petra had once created of her own family before they sent her to the Circle, hanging on the wall across the room.

The long struggle to rescue the Circle was vividly etched in her mind as usual, but she let herself dwell on a just a few parts. She called up that moment of pure joy when they searched the kitchen store room and found Alain hiding there with nine more children and five apprentices. She had sent them back to Petra and Kinnon, and the knowledge of all those innocents waiting for her to come back with the First Enchanter filled her with fierce determination as she fought her way through the tower.

She recalled that first battle with Wynne at her side. The older mage had quickly taken over the healer responsibility, giving Virae the freedom to enter the fight with her dual daggers and combat magic. While the sprightly elder mage kept the whole group bolstered and healthy, Virae had reveled in the intense satisfaction of throwing herself into the battle with deadly abandon.

Despite the gravity of the situation, Virae couldn't help but feel a little guilty about searching Irving's study. She'd asked Wynne, Sten and Alistair to "keep watch", while she, Leliana, and Zevran rifled through every corner. Zevran "found" a grimoire in a locked chest; it was a black leather-bound book with a tree on the cover. The same stylized tree that Virae remembered was on her mother's book of herb lore and potion recipes. Virae planned to scan through it and add it to her mental library before giving it to Morrigan later.

That interminable journey through the Fade had also left her with a better awareness of both the dangers and the possibilities that exist in that realm. Entering her companions' nightmares felt uncomfortably intrusive, but it was the only way to free them, and she gained important insights into her companions' souls. Sten was the only one who wasn't fooled, and yet he accepted his fate calmly. Virae wondered about her own dream the Sloth Demon created to trap her - the Blight over, Weisshaupt Fortress turned into a sanctuary for mage children and a research center for Dalish scholars trying to reclaim their lost heritage. It might have worked, for a while, had the Sloth Demon not included Duncan in the charade.

The most difficult confrontation of all was the disturbing conversation with Cullen, imprisoned in a magical cage just outside the harrowing chamber. If it weren't for Zevran's comforting hand on her shoulder, she probably wouldn't have been able to bring herself to question him.

Virae's thoughts drifted to that last battle in the harrowing chamber, against Uldred. Somehow they had managed to defeat the blood-mage-turned-abomination, but it had been a close call. Alistair had been critically injured, an abomination sunk its claws right into his gut, and if it hadn't been for Wynne's expert healing magic, he probably would have died right there.

And then there was that last hideous moment, standing at the barred door with Senior Enchanter Irving, the children, and the surviving mages, when she was afraid that - after everything they had been through - Knight Commander Greagoir would decide to kill them after all. The relief and elation she felt at saving those few survivors was tempered by the devastating loss the Circle had suffered. It would take decades to rebuild it.

Virae, Wynne, and Leliana had then accompanied Alistair to the infirmary, and were appalled to find it full of Knight Commander Greagoir's surviving men - Templar who had been injured whilst fighting demons and abominations before Greagoir gave the order to seal the Tower entrance. There were a tense few minutes where Leliana did some quick talking to convince the Templar that the Virae and Wynne were not possessed, and were in fact partly responsible for saving the Tower. Although some of the Templar refused to allow Virae or Wynne to come near them, most were relieved to be healed with magic, and by the time Wynne collapsed from exhaustion, followed soon after by Virae, most were well on their way to recovery. Virae vaguely remembered Sten picking her up before falling into a dreamless sleep.

She was just wondering whose bed she was occupying, when the door opened and Alain came in with a tray of delicious smelling rolls and herbal tea.

"You're awake! You must be starving; you've been asleep since yesterday morning."

"Alain! I hardly got a chance to talk to you after the battle." Virae slipped out of the bed and hugged her old friend. Alain was a vivacious young human woman with shoulder-length dark hair, and big brown eyes. She was short and slightly built for a human, and since she had been abandoned at the chantry as a baby, she and Virae had often speculated that she might be the child of a human and elf.

"A whole day of sleep has done you good, you look so much better than you did when the Orlesian bard and Qunari brought you here." Alain gestured to the tray, "the rolls are wonderful. Your Qunari friend helped make them."

Virae bit into one of the rolls, and found it _was_ delicious. "Sten helped make these?"

Alain giggled, "He volunteered after Petra and I promised to teach him how to make cookies."

Virae laughed at the thought of Sten in that huge kitchen, making cookies on a scale that would satisfy even him. But then the events that led to her leaving the Circle came to mind and Virae drew back from Alain and wrapped her arms around herself sadly, "You know about Jowan, right? Oh Alain, I betrayed him. I feel so awful about what happened."

Alain looked at her sternly, "Virae Surana, just stop right there. Don't you dare blame yourself. Jowan _chose_ to be a _blood mage_. He probably would have become an abomination like Uldred and the rest."

"But, he was our friend, Alain. He was like a brother to me… to us." Virae said sadly.

"You did the best you could." Alain hugged her again, "you have my unconditional forgiveness – not that you need it."

"Thank you, Alain," Virae smiled gratefully, "that means so much to me."

Virae paused then, reluctant to ask, but unable to stop herself. "Do we know yet, how many mages were lost?"

Alain bowed her head, and then looked up at Virae bravely, "We don't know for sure. At least three-quarters. Those that are left will be closely watched. The tower will be a very different place from now on."

Virae nodded sadly, "So many dead. I can't get my head around it."

Alain sat on the bed and motioned for Virae to join her. "I want to hear about everything that you've done, everything that has happened to you."

Virae picked up another roll and a cup of tea and sat next to her friend, "It's a long story"…

/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/

"Now Alain," said Virae, "I want to hear about you! When Duncan recruited me, you were still in Amaranthine helping Senior Enchanter Evelyn midwife for that noble woman."

Alain smiled, "It was a very memorable trip. The birth went well, but we were there three weeks early. So I had plenty of time to get to know the city guards…"

"You didn't…" Virae rolled her eyes and gave a mock gasp.

"Oh yes," Alain grinned, "I brought 'spiritual enlightenment' to quite a few lonely guardsmen."

"I assume you're not talking about the Chant of Light," Virae teased. This was a long-standing inside-joke between them.

"_A__u contraire, mon ami_" Alain grinned wickedly, "I'm talking about _Le Bréviaire de l'amour_, of course."

"Right… " Virae smirked, "so I think you mean 'sexual enlightenment', not 'spiritual enlightenment'."

"Same thing, in my opinion."

"How refreshing that some things never change." Virae smiled indulgently, "remember how hard we worked to translate that book?"

"Oh yes, but _so_ worth it! Which reminds me… you've been free from Cullen for a couple of months now… I want to hear all about your first time. You have some _very interesting_ traveling companions. That warrior is so muscular and handsome! And that Antivan elf – gorgeous! I _definitely_ want to hear _all_ about them."

"Alain…" Virae groaned.

"Wait, don't tell me you still haven't…" Alain's mouth fell open incredulously as Virae shook her head, "how many times did you tell me that if you ever got away from Cullen…"

"You know," Virae interrupted, "I have had a few other, _slightly_ more important things to worry about…"

Alain's eyes narrowed speculatively, "What about that warrior, Alistair?"

"He was raised in the Chantry, and" Virae shrugged, "he wants his first time to be with someone he loves."

"He's a man, isn't he?" Alain said knowingly, "Make him an offer he can't refuse."

"I tried that, and failed _spectacularly_." Virae sighed, "besides, he's been my closest friend, the only other Grey Warden in Fereldan, and… I really care about him. I'm not _in love_ with him, but I could never bring myself to intentionally do anything to hurt him. On top of that, he's uncomfortable being around magic. I think I scare him half the time."

Alain smiled slyly, "Then what about that Antivan elf? He is so… beddable."

Virae shook her head slowly, "It's complicated. He was an Antivan Crow, a slave assassin, and I accepted his oath in exchange for letting him live. It would be like… he didn't have a choice, like if I invited him to my bed, he'd _have_ to do it for survival or something. And I think that even though Alistair doesn't want to… he would feel hurt and betrayed if I took Zevran to my bed."

"Ah, Alain," Virae put her head in her hands, "it's so confusing!"

"You know, sometimes you have to think about yourself." Alain said authoritatively, "so what if the Antivan beds you because he thinks he has to. Assuming he believes he has a choice, do you think he would say no? It's not like he wouldn't enjoy it. _You_ would certainly enjoy it."

"It's complicated, Alain, let's just leave it at that." Virae said firmly.

"Let me think… Kinnon isn't available, he and Petra are exclusive now," Alain appeared to be deep in thought, "Anders escaped again, just before Uldred got back from Ostagar. Too bad, he would really like that changing-into-a-cat thing you can do…"

"Stop right there, Alain. I appreciate your intention, really, but I can manage my own personal affairs." Virae tried to sound confident when she said that.

* * *

"_au contraire, mon ami_" , French for "on the contrary, my friend"

"_le bréviaire de l'amour_", French for "the breviary of love"

Kâma sûtra, le bréviaire de l'amour by Vatsyayana, Translated by (French Historian) Alain Daniélou. This is, of course, a real book. As far as I know, the Kâma sûtra doesn't exist in the Dragon Age universe, but it should;-)

* * *

_Chapter 15 will be up soon…_

_Thanks so much to Juliafied and Brelaina for reviewing chapter 13. Reviews make my day!_

/#/#/#/


	15. Chapter 15

The fanfiction site story traffic feature doesn't seem to be working, so I can't tell if anyone has visited my last chapter (*sigh*).

**Many, many thanks to Brelaina again, my wonderfully helpful Beta Reader for this chapter!**

* * *

**Chapter 15**

After breakfast with Alain that morning, Virae headed to the infirmary to visit Alistair. Most of the Templars from the other night had recovered enough to return to their duties, but a few were left, and Alistair was regaling them with the story of how they ended the werewolf curse and recruited the elves. Virae waited in the hallway, but decided to interrupt just before he got to the part where Zathrian turned out to be a blood mage, and sure enough, they all went quiet when Virae stepped in.

The Chantry medic approached her disdainfully, "We have no need of your services, mage."

Virae looked around and saw the remaining injured Templars were those who had refused magical healing, including Cullen in the far corner. She noticed that Cullen was very pale, his eyes closed and surrounded by dark circles. "I'm here to see my _fellow_ Grey Warden."

The medic backed down, "Of course, Warden."

"Excuse me, sister" said Virae, "What of Cullen, he looks… worse."

The Chantry medic looked at Cullen, and then turned a measured gaze on Virae, "It's a wonder he survived at all. I, ah, think it best if you stay away from him."

Virae nodded and sat on a chair next to Alistair's bed, "Hey, Alistair, how are you feeling?"

"It will take more than being gored in the belly to keep me down." Alistair muttered, "I was wondering how you're holding up."

"Honestly, Alistair?" Virae sighed. "My home of ten years is destroyed, and almost everyone I knew since I was nine years old is dead," her voice started to tremble, "right now, I'm trying not to think about it."

Alistair patted her hand awkwardly, "I'm sorry. It must be awful." He waited as Virae struggled to regain her composure, "I wanted to ask you… I'm not sure I understand what happened in the Fade."

Virae looked at her friend thoughtfully, "What do you remember?"

"Not much. What I do remember is… I was happy. I felt like I belonged."

Virae sighed, "It was the Sloth demon. He created the dream to make you complacent, to trap you there in the Fade."

"I think I remember… were you…" Alistair looked chagrined, "in my dream?"

"Only at the end, I had to convince you it wasn't real, so you could escape. And don't worry," Virae smiled reassuringly, "you were fully dressed, and no classroom was involved."

Alistair chuckled, and then looked at her closely.

"Are you alright?" Alistair shuddered, "All those demons… Were you… affected?"

Virae was acutely aware that the room had gone quiet, and the half dozen injured Templar in the room were listening intently. "It was different than my harrowing. Then, I only had to worry about myself. But, this time… far more was at stake. I was so worried about all of you, my friends, the other mages, the children. I understand, now, how some mages can be taken in by a demon. But I feel that I have been tested far more thoroughly than my harrowing ever did."

"So now you're completely confident?" Alistair took her hand with a relieved smile, "You could never become an abomination?"

Virae looked at him steadily, "Oh no, Alistair. I think overconfidence is where Uldred and the other mages that became abominations went wrong. I will _always_ need to be vigilant."

Alistair nodded his acceptance of her vague reassurance, as Virae then began working her healing spell. As her awareness flowed over and penetrated his body, and then concentrated on the site where the monster's claws had ripped into his belly, she was again impressed with Wynne's talent – every tissue was patched together perfectly. Virae modified her spell to relieve the pain and speed his healing, and Alistair let out an audible sigh.

Virae waited there quietly while Alistair drifted off to sleep. Just as she stood up, the medic approached her. "Excuse me, Warden? Cullen would like to speak to you."

Virae had to control the sudden urge to run away. She looked across the room at the Templar who had been the frightening tyrant overshadowing her whole existence at the Circle. She was surprised to find that, what she saw was just a man – a very sick, very weak man. Without really thinking about it, she found herself at the foot of his bed.

He was looking at her with that same mixture of longing and repulsion that she remembered well, but there was sadness and regret there also. "The Knight Commander told me how you saved the tower," Cullen said weakly. "And I heard what you said to the other Warden."

Virae shrugged, "I did what I had to do. Not all mages are weak, you know."

"_You_ are strong, I'll give you that," he gave her a strained smile, "I may never get the chance again, and… I just want to say that I'm sorry for what happened… a few years ago."

Virae smiled sadly, "We were friends, once, before magic came between us."

"You are a mage, and I am a Templar. We can never be friends." Cullen said decisively.

"I hope you are wrong, Cullen." Virae turned and walked out the door.

* * *

Zevran lounged in the shadows of the large, nearly deserted dining area, half listening to Leliana and Virae's mage-friend chattering in Orlesian. Leliana had been going on about shoes, and now the pretty brunette mage was asking intriguingly explicit questions about the men of Orlais in broken and poorly pronounced Orlesian.

In the week or so since joining this band of apparent do-gooders, Zevran had observed all of the companions carefully, especially the elven Grey Warden. Before they arrived at the Circle Tower Zevran had thought her soft-hearted, naive and perhaps easy to manipulate. He was not surprised to see her tearful reunion with the first group of children and mages they met after being sealed in the Circle Tower. His training, as well as his experience, had taught him that emotional attachment was a weakness.

Zevran contemplated the way the elven mage seemed to draw strength from her personal connections to other people. From the moment the white-haired mage dispelled the magical barrier, Virae's sentimental demeanor was replaced by grim determination. After the first confrontation with abominations there had been tense, hasty words between the two mages. The elder mage lectured her about the dangers of wild, ancient elven magic, even as the younger mage unsheathed her twin daggers. Zevran had watched with interest as Virae's face lit up with cold fire.

The elven warrior-mage that led them through the tower was someone completely different than the woman he had observed before. Her eyes glowed with mage fire and bloodlust. She wielded the twin daggers like they were extensions of her own body, and what she lacked in skill and experience she made up for in passion and interspersed magical attacks. By the time they moved up the stairs to the second floor, he and Virae had begun to work together smoothly. Zevran recalled weaving in and out around her, backstabbing and finishing off enemies she had disoriented or weakened. It pleased him to find that beneath her soft-hearted exterior was pure steel, she did not hesitate to cut down a single blood mage with ruthless force, even the one that begged for her life.

Caring for another person made you weak, or so he had been taught. It was a strange idea, alien even, that caring about other people made Virae stronger. Perhaps it was connected to her apparent need to protect those she cared about?

Zevran's reverie was cut short by the arrival of the two Grey Wardens and the spry elder mage in the dining hall.

"You should be in bed, young man..." The elder mage was saying. "Not wandering around the tower."

"I'm going crazy shut up in the infirmary…" Alistair whined like small child, "Wynne, I promise I'll go back to bed after dinner."

Wynne headed toward the kitchen, shaking her head.

Zevran watched Virae lead Alistair over to Alain and Leliana, "_I__'m happy to__ see my two best girl friends are getting to know each other!_" she said in Orlesian.

Leliana replied in Orlesian, "_Where have you been all day? I brought your message to _Morrigan_, she'll be waiting for us at the _Spoiled Princess _when we leave __the day after __tomorrow__. _Bodahn_said he'll be __ready__as well._"

"Hey! No fair speaking in Orlesian," Alistair complained.

Virae rolled her eyes, "We're not talking about you, Alistair! Thank you, Leli. I had lunch with Senior Enchanter Irving in his study, and I spent the afternoon at the crèche with the children. I can't believe how much they've grown since I left!"

"They really missed you, Vie." Alain said gently, "They kept asking when you were coming back."

"I know. I tried to explain… but…" Virae swallowed.

"You explained that you had to go save the world, I hope." Alain said cheerfully, "And I assume this is the other Grey Warden?"

"Alain, have you met Alistair?" Virae motioned between her friends.

Alain took Alistair's hand, "Not officially," she smiled knowingly at the warrior, "I've heard a great deal about you."

Alistair blushed slightly and looked suspiciously at Virae. They both seemed relieved when the door opened again and the Qunari and Mabari came in. Caraid bounded up to Virae, nearly knocking her over. She rubbed him behind the ears affectionately, then looked around the room, her eyes sliding right past Zevran's hiding place. "Leliana, have you seen Zev?"

The assassin slipped from the shadows just behind Virae, "Here I am, my dear warden."

Virae startled. "How do you do that?" She laughed and gestured between Zevran and Alain. "You two have already met, right? I'll just go and help Wynne bring in the dinner trays."

Zevran watched her as she disappeared through the door into the kitchen, and then turned to Alain.

* * *

Virae sat under the huge oak tree that stood at the edge of the grassy area set aside for the Circle children to play. It was dark, the misty half-moon reflecting off the smooth surface of Lake Calenhad before her. In the dim light she could still make out the branches above her, the old oak splendidly enrobed in its catkin flowers spring dress. The ground around the oak was sprinkled with the crunchy shell remains of the acorn bounty of last Autumn. She leaned against the oak's comforting trunk and marveled at how easy it was to slip back into her old habits.

Dinner had been a raucous affair. The gang of children noisily insisted that she eat with them, and she was joined by Wynne and Leliana, leaving Alain to entertain Alistair, Sten, and Zevran. After dinner, everyone lingered in the dining hall, Chantry sisters, mages, Templar, apprentices and children alike. Leliana retrieved her lute from her room, and sang numerous ballads and songs. Virae was surprised to hear the Chantry sisters, Templar, and mages joining in with the chorus of some of the songs along with her companions, and as she looked around she realized she was witness to a tentative truce, and temporary though it may be, Virae enjoyed it nonetheless.

Virae had then followed the Chantry sisters and yawning children to the crèche, and stayed until the last child fell asleep. The little one was the only elf, a seven-year-old girl who went by the name Da'len, because it was the only name she could remember being called by her parents. The young elf had questioned her incessantly about the Dalish, and Virae was happy to answer.

Her lunch with Irving had been both exhausting and rewarding. He wanted to know every detail of her experience in the Fade, and she complied willingly, described every moment, and sketching scenes from her eidetic memory. She left out her companion's dreams, but freely discussed her own, and managed to exact a promise from the Senior Enchanter to do what he could to allow Dalish scholars access to the Circle library.

Virae found her thoughts turning to Zevran. Considering everything he had been through during his Crow training, she wasn't surprised that his dream was about being tortured. What _was_ disturbing and difficult to understand was that the Sloth demon had successfully trapped him in that dream.

Virae considered the physical abuse and torture that Zevran endured as a child, evidenced by the healed growth plates fractures and below-the-skin scars she could feel that first time she healed him. From working with the children at the Circle, she was familiar with some of those injuries, especially those resulting from beatings, and the physical and emotional scars left on the victims. But nothing in her experience compared to the sheer number of injuries inflicted on him that had been healed with magic. It was as if every injustice done to all of her past charges and more had been done to the child Zevran had once been. At least none of the children she'd cared for had been tortured. She shuddered just to think about it.

Sorting out her feelings for the assassin, however, was an entirely new problem in itself.

Thinking of him as the survivor of such treatment triggered emotions similar to the feeling she had for the children at the tower - a desire to protect and nurture. She smiled ruefully at that thought. It was completely illogical, he was a deadly living weapon after all, but thinking of him as the weapon, or as the broken child did make it easier to ignore the obvious attractiveness of the man.

Regardless, her efforts to learn to speak Antivan from Zevran were off to a slow start. They lacked the common repertoire of written material she had shared with Leliana. Writing things out in the dirt at camp was tedious at best. What she needed was a book written in Antivan…

_Oh!_ She thought excitedly, _the book of Antivan poetry is still in the Tower storage caves!_

Virae thoughts snapped back to her conversation with Alain that morning. Her friend was right about one thing, life would be so much less complicated if she didn't always worry about the consequences of her actions. What if Alain was right about Zevran? Maybe her anxiety about taking advantage of the former Crow-slave was unfounded. She could make sure he understood he had a choice… Virae suddenly admitted to herself that she really did want the physical release that Zevran could give her, and once she realized that, she didn't want to wait.

She stood up and brushed the crushed acorn shells from her robes. She could find Zevran right now – tonight - and explain to Alistair in the morning. He would understand, right?


	16. Chapter 16

**Many thanks again to Brelaina, my brilliant and helpful Beta Reader for this chapter!**

* * *

**Chapter 16**

Before she could change her mind, Virae sprinted away from the oak tree, across the herb garden, and into the foyer of the Circle tower. The dual Templar guards who were stationed there uncharacteristically turned their heads to watch her pass. She slowed down then, not wanting to draw undue attention.

Virae's footfalls echoed in the empty stone hallways of the tower as she made her way to the Circle's guest accommodations. The sound was a counterpoint to the pounding of her heart in her chest. Virae nodded nervously to the Templar standing guard at the entrance to the corridor leading to her companions' rooms. Earlier that day she'd visited Leliana in her room, and the bard had helpfully pointed out which rooms Sten and Zevran were using. Alistair was still in the infirmary.

_What would the consequences be? _She thought._ What energy would she be sending out__ by bedding Zevran__… only to come back to her three times over?_ No, she wasn't going to think about that. Just this once, she was going to live in the moment. It would take months to gather an army to confront the arch-demon. She could be killed along the way at any time. She didn't want to die without experiencing sexual passion at least once. How often would she have this opportunity, with a real bed and the privacy of stone walls?

Virae stood there for several loud heartbeats, with her hand resting on the door to Zevran's room, then she took a deep breath and knocked.

There was no answer. She hesitated, _what now? _she thought. And then she heard Zevran's voice, it sounded like he was saying something in Antivan.

She pushed open the door and saw…

Zevran.

And Alain.

Naked.

Together.

More quickly than she would have thought possible for someone who was completely numb, Virae closed the door.

She rested her forehead against the cold stone wall as several random thoughts and emotions skittered through her mind and heart.

Shock….. _I didn't know Alain was that flexible_… disappointment…. _I remember that position described in part 2, chapter 6 of the book_… embarrassment… _those tattoos really do__ trail __over his whole body_… nausea…

Lastly she thought, _By the Creators, I am such a fool_.

A short time later she found herself lying on her bed in her temporary room, grateful that she didn't run into anyone on the way there, crying herself to sleep.

* * *

Virae woke before dawn as usual, and looked around the room. In the dim light she could see that Petra was asleep in her bed, but Alain's bed was conspicuously unoccupied.

She picked up her small bag of toiletries, and headed to the bathing room. In the small mirror her eyes looked red and puffy, but a little healing magic had her looking almost normal. She dropped the bag off in her room – Alain was still not there – picked up her daggers, and headed back to her favorite spot under the oak tree.

* * *

Alain woke in Zevran's bed to find the space next to her empty and cold. She sat up and looked blearily around the room, and saw the Antivan standing by the window, fully clothed.

"I guess I fell asleep," she purred, with a satisfied grin. "Why don't you come back to bed?"

Zevran leaned against the wall and regarded Alain with hooded eyes. "My dear mage, your skills in bed would rival even the most experienced Antivan whore. But it is morning and we both have duties to attend, do we not?"

She yawned and stretched, "I suppose you're right."

Alain looked around the room; her clothes were neatly folded on the chair. She was sure she'd left them scattered around the room last night. She dressed quickly and planted a kiss on Zevran's cheek before reaching for the door.

"If I may ask," said Zevran lightly, "where does a mage of the Circle learn such skills?"

Alain grinned mischievously, "I learned from Virae… indirectly," she giggled. "Did you think she only reads history books?"

She then slipped out and closed the door behind her.

Zevran turned thoughtfully back to the window just in time to see a spectacular sunrise over the lake. As the sun peaked out over the horizon, a flash of reflected light next to the large oak tree caught his eye. A familiar petite figure was moving gracefully through dual dagger forms.

* * *

After completing five sets of forms, Virae sheathed her daggers and began stretching. The exercise had done her good, she felt better, and she could put the whole Zevran thing into perspective, she thought. It turned out for the best - ending the Blight was far too important and she could not allow herself to be distracted. Or at least, that's what she told herself; she was comfortable with - and fully aware of - her self-deception for now.

Alistair should be fully recovered today, and they could leave first thing tomorrow. She would miss the children, but the Circle didn't feel like home to her any more. The Tower was more claustrophobic than ever, and Virae had grown accustomed to the freedom of making her own decisions and the responsibility of doing what needed to be done as a Grey Warden.

Virae exhaled into the last stretch, and then straightened; before turning and running straight into Zevran. He caught her by the waist and steadied her for a moment, before she jerked out of his grasp.

"By the bloody gates of the Black City, I hate it when you sneak up on me like that!" She gasped irritably. "You're… up early." She cringed as the memory of him and Alain came into focus.

He looked at her quizzically, "You came to my room last night."

"It was… a mistake." She blushed and looked down at her feet.

He smiled lewdly, "My dear Warden, you should have joined us! It would have been - "

"Of course!" she snapped, interrupting him with a glare, "why didn't I think of that?"

Zevran looked perplexed, and Virae mildly understood why. She usually responded to his teasing with laughter, not sarcasm. "Did you want something of me?" he asked.

She turned away so he couldn't see her face, and tried not to think about what she _did_ want from him. She looked out at Lake Calenhad.

"Last night, I, ah… was looking for Leliana and I opened the wrong door." She sighed. "Like I said, it was a mistake."

Without looking at him again, she strode purposefully back to the tower.

* * *

Later that day, Virae was nearly caught out in her lie. Leliana sought her out and explained that Zevran said the elf-mage was looking for her. The first excuse that came to mind was needing Leliana's help to get something from the storage caves. So, after a long day spent in meetings with the First Enchanter and the Knight Commander, checking in with Alistair, and spending as much time as possible with the children in between, she spent the evening with Leliana in the storage caves, killing giant spiders.

"We're back to the beginning of the loop, I think that was the last one," Virae said as Leliana pulled an arrow out of the dead body of a giant spider. "How many does that make?"

"By my count," Leliana smiled tiredly, "fifteen taken down by my arrows, and twelve by your lightning bolts."

"I thought so. I don't think anyone else has been in here since the last time I cleared it out," Virae muttered as she pulled the sticky spider webs off her clothes.

"Why are we here again?" Leliana brushed a missed fragment of web off Virae's back.

"Aside from possibly saving the life of the next apprentice sent in here to clear out spiders, there's a book I wanted to get." It took only a few minutes to find the crate, and the book was right on top, exactly where she had left it.

Leliana held out her hand, "May I?"

Virae reluctantly handed it over.

"This book is Antivan, yes?" Leliana said as she opened it. "I cannot read Antivan, but the text is laid out like poetry."

"That's what it is. I thought it would help with learning to speak Antivan from Zev." She felt the heat of a blush rise up to her pointed ears.

Leliana took in the blush and handed the book back to the elf. "Why did you not ask him to come with us?"

Virae shrugged in what she hopped was a casual way. "He was, ah… busy."

By the time she got to her borrowed bed in the shared living space late that night, Virae was almost too exhausted to register the fact that both Petra and Alain were asleep in their own beds.

* * *

Morrigan was waiting with the dwarf child, Sandal, on the dock next to the Spoiled Princess Inn. Sandal could barely contain his excitement, and was jumping up and down in a most unnerving way. _I do hope they w__on't linger __around__ the Spoiled Princess_, she thought irritably, _I am well and truly tired of this place_.

Morrigan was perplexed at the strange feelings the sight of Virae and the rest of the misfits evoked in her. She had been annoyed when Leliana came to tell her it would be another two days before they left this mage-prison; all because that idiot Alistair went and nearly got himself killed.

She had expected to enjoy her break from this tiresome group of allies. But instead she found herself thinking about how much more fun it was to run in wolf form with Virae instead of alone. She spent one entire evening trying to remember the words to a tune Leliana had sung. One morning in the small market, she'd listened to a farmer and his daughter argue about the girl's desire to join the Denerim city guard, and she wondered what terse but insightful remark Sten would have made. She'd ventured into the Spoiled Princess one night, and when a drunk tried to proposition her, she found herself thinking how clever Zevran's suggestive banter could be. She even found herself remembering some of Alistair's ridiculous jokes. And she spent more time than she was willing to admit, even to herself, circling over the Circle Tower in hawk form, watching for Virae and the others.

The witch stiffened instinctively when Virae hopped out of the boat and greeted her with an exuberant hug, but was oddly pleased by the way the elf held on and didn't let her pull away immediately.

"Ah Morrigan," laughed Virae, "I missed you!"

_Was that it__?_ thought Morrigan, _did I__ actually _miss_ these__ aggravating__ people?_

Morrigan pondered that strange idea as the rest of the companions climbed onto the dock and unloaded their gear. She watched suspiciously as Alistair helped a deceptively agile white-haired mage step out of the boat.

"Morrigan," said Virae formally, "this is Wynne, a Senior Enchanter of the Circle of Magi."

The witch regarded the Circle mage disdainfully, "you may call me Morrigan. Some call _me_ a Witch of the Wilds."

The two mages glared at each other for several seconds, the air crackling with magical energy, before Virae cleared her throat. "Right then. Wynne will be joining us, Morrigan. She promised to keep an open mind about apostates, and…" Virae stepped in front of her friend and looked her in the eye, "we need all the help we can get."

For a moment, Morrigan wondered if this pompous old woman could take over her place as Virae's collaborator in magic. She felt an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach. Surely she could not be… jealous?

"Do as you wish," Morrigan shrugged. "I care not."

Caraid had given up waiting for someone to help him onto the dock, and dived right out of the boat and into the shallow water with a huge splash. He chose that moment to bound up to Morrigan and greet her as only a wet dog can, much to the amusement of everyone except the witch.

* * *

_Many, many thanks to my chapter 15 reviewers, Aimi-chan and Brelaina!_

I hope I didn't disappoint anyone too much with this chapter! Virae will have to wait a little bit longer to have her way with our favorite assassin;-)

/#/#/#/


	17. Chapter 17

Many thanks to Brelaina for being my Beta Reader!

**Chapter 17: The Road to Redcliffe **

* * *

The road meandered to a point overlooking Lake Calenhad, and Virae paused to take in the view. She closed her eyes and felt the warm sun on her head, felt the cool breeze caress her face, and inhaled the fresh green smell of healthy growing things. In the distance she could just make out the Circle Tower, and she pictured the oak tree where she had sat countless times, imagining what it was like here, on the other side of the lake.

Virae was strangely relieved to be back on the road. Darkspawn stalked her dreams at night, and her waking hours were plagued by a constant niggling feeling at the back of her mind; the sense that time was running out, ever so slowly. That uncomfortable feeling had eased off now that they were traveling again. Being back on the road also meant she could resume shape shifting, and Virae was anxiously anticipating the next shape she wanted to learn: a raven.

The night before - after setting up camp - Virae had barely paused long enough to eat before running off in wolf form with Morrigan. She had ducked into her tent, undressed, and shape shifted into wolf form, then joined Morrigan in the woods just outside of the camp. The wonder and joy of experiencing the world as a wild creature with simple needs, and the relief of putting aside her Grey Warden responsibilities for just a few hours was marvelously refreshing. Virae had recovered her good humor.

The young mage surveyed her friends. Just now, Morrigan was walking along with one hand on Caraid's head, and the other holding the black grimoire Virae had given her. Virae smiled at the Mabari, he was taking his guide dog responsibility very seriously, and Morrigan was engrossed. Alistair was talking to Wynne; you would have thought he'd found his long lost mother, the way the two of them got along. Leliana was humming to herself, pausing now and then to look at some sheets of parchment she held in her hands. Sten was leading for a change; even though he and Zevran had been put to work searching out and destroying the last of the abominations at the Tower, he was frustrated by the delay at the Circle and anxious to be killing Darkspawn, or killing something anyway. Zevran was at the rear, in sweep position, but unusually quiet. Virae thought with an unacknowledged pang of jealousy that maybe he was missing Alain; his usual flirting was subdued and he hadn't made a single lewd comment all morning.

* * *

Virae fell into step with the assassin. "Well, Zev, is traveling with Grey Wardens everything you thought it would be?" she asked playfully.

He avoided the question by asking one of his own. "Is traveling with a Crow everything you thought it would be?"

She laughed, "I imagine I may be the only former mark able to answer that question." She thought about what he'd already told her about his early childhood, sold as a slave to the Crows, fighting other children to the death for training and survival. She asked soberly, "Was there anything… positive about being a Crow?"

Zevran chuckled grimly, "the Crows who are actually good enough to survive come to enjoy some of the benefits. In Antiva being a Crow gets you respect. It gets you wealth. It gets you women… and men, or whatever it is you might fancy. But that does mean doing what is expected of you, always. And it means being expendable. It's a cage, if a gilded cage. Pretty, but confining."

The Circle Tower had been a gilded cage also, she thought, and now they were both free… sort of. "So what is it you fancy, exactly?"

"I fancy many things." He smiled genuinely. "I fancy things that are beautiful and things that are strong. I fancy things that are dangerous and exciting. Would you be offended if I said I fancied you?"

Virae's breath caught and she almost tripped. "No… not at all."

The assassin relaxed almost unperceptively. "This is good to know. "

* * *

The road from the Circle Tower to Redcliffe wove around the lake, and afforded lovely views of the beautiful, deep blue waterway. Where the roadway departed from the lake, it rolled through picturesque new-growth woods and farmlands.

The Grey Warden party stopped at mid-day for a rest and a light meal. They were moving more slowly than usual, making allowances for Wynne as she became accustomed to traveling long distances on foot. Virae stood at the edge of the small clearing where they took their rest, and looked out over the lake; several sail boats of various sizes dotted the smooth blue surface of the water, all unmoving. She heard footsteps beside her and glanced back to find Zevran sidling up next to her. With a warm jolt, she realized that he must have purposely made noise so as not to startle her.

"The sailboats are all taking a siesta, no?" he murmured warmly in her ear.

"No, not a siesta," Virae replied, without taking her usual step back from the assassin. "The wind on the lake is completely still at mid-day. This time of year, the wind moves North toward the Calenhad Docks in the afternoon, and South toward Redcliffe in the morning. At mid-day, there's no wind at all." Virae smiled, amused with herself because she sounded like a Chantry sister giving a geography lesson.

The elf-mage sighed wistfully, "I used to watch the sails on the lake, and wish I could ride in one of the boats." She turned toward the rogue elf. "Antiva is a harbor city, have you ever sailed?"

Zevran chuckled, "Indeed I have, and I am quite the accomplished sailor, if I do say so myself." He smiled suggestively. "I would be only too happy to take you for a ride, if the opportunity presents itself."

Virae's heart skipped a beat, and her attention was momentarily captured by the delicious pout of the assassin's lower lip. The words of her reply rolled incoherently in her mind as she leaned toward him. But then the moment was shattered by the sudden explosion of expletives behind them.

Virae had to stifle a laugh at the scene before her. Alistair was sprawled on the ground, holding an empty cup, and Morrigan was sitting nearby next to Caraid, her hair and clothes wet, furiously dabbing at the book in her lap. The swearing was emanating from her.

The witch jumped angrily to her feet and stalked away, clutching the black grimoire. Virae guessed that she had been so enthralled with the book that instead of selecting a place strategically away from the rest of the companions, but close enough to hear what went on, she had just sat down where they stopped. And of course poor Alistair had tripped over her, bringing a cup of water to Wynne. The elven mage sighed; it had been an unusually quiet morning, with Morrigan too absorbed with the tome to bother with antagonizing the warrior.

Virae followed the witch into the trees, and was surprised that she didn't want to complain about Alistair. "You read it, I assume," Morrigan stated. She held up the book and began pacing.

The elf nodded. "Yes, I read it. I only understand parts… the sections written in Fereldan and Orlesian, and most of the sections written in Tevinter, I think. Key parts seem to be written in either a very old language, or maybe Flemeth's personal cypher."

Morrigan stopped pacing and grimaced. "Her personal cypher. Yes…" She looked unseeingly into the trees, and slowly turned her attention to the other mage. "It will take some time to decipher, but I… I may need your help," she said uneasily.

A chill ran down Virae's spine, it was so unlike the witch to be anything less than confident. Or to ask for help. "Of course, Morrigan. If it's in my power, I will do what I can to help."

The witch nodded with an uncharacteristically grateful smile. With an unsubtle change of topic she inquired, "You didn't say, were there no Templar repercussions to the Dalish patterns that now adorn your forehead?"

Virae laughed, "none at all. Gregoire asked me how and why I got it, and then pointedly ignored my vallaslin the rest of the time… I think Alistair was a little disappointed."

Morrigan snorted derisively, "that idiot –".

"Morrigan," Virae interrupted. "He's my friend. You are my friend. I need you both to end the Blight! Can you cut him some slack? For me?"

The witch glared at the elven mage even as a smile was tugging at the corner of her mouth. "No. I don't believe I can."

Virae rolled her eyes. "Then how about helping me learn a new animal shape tonight? I want to shift into a raven."

The witch nodded slowly. "I think you're ready for that."

* * *

Morrigan was bored. Bored and irritable. Virae, Alistair, and Sten had gone on ahead to determine whether there was a better camp site nearby, Leliana was chatting in her irritatingly cheerful way with the white-haired Circle mage about how noble she was, and Sandal was throwing a stick for Caraid whilst Bodahn fussed over the cart-horse. She was herself stuck with Zevran for company.

She eyed the assassin suspiciously. "You do still intend to kill your target, do you not? Now that you are in Virae's good graces, poisoning her would be a simple matter… or cutting all of our throats while we sleep."

Zevran hid his irritation and turned calmly to the witch. "Ah, but you are watching me rather too closely for that. I must admit," he purred. "I'm rather fond of your scrutiny."

Morrigan snorted in exasperation just as Virae, Alistair, and Sten returned to where the rest of the companions waited on the road. "There's a clearing just ahead - with a spring!" said the elf-mage enthusiastically.

The human mage picked up her pack, and was surprised to find Zevran still standing next to her. He ignored her glare and said, "Morrigan, my raven-haired enchantress, there is something I do not understand, perhaps you would explain. You go out of your way to help our fair warden learn this shape shifting magic, and yet, it seems that being helpful is not in your nature."

Morrigan scowled irascibly. She did not really understand why she went out of her way to help the elven woman. She realized suddenly and uncomfortably that she had come to care about her… Virae was indeed her… friend. But this was something she could barely admit to herself, and would never admit to this annoying Antivan. "Do you jest? Have you not seen how much it irritates Alistair?"

Zevran chuckled appreciatively, "Ah, now it makes sense."

The witch felt an irrational urge to prove to herself that she felt no particular loyalty to the elf-warden, and raised her voice so that it was clearly audible to everyone in the party. "Of course, Virae has not learned to shape-shift her clothing."

Virae whipped her head around and glared at Morrigan, a look of betrayal clear on her face. Morrigan felt a sharp pang of guilt that was quickly assuaged by Alistair's reaction as he blushed a delightful shade of scarlet, turned on his fellow Warden and growled, "you have been practicing magic in the woods naked?"

* * *

Panting and sweating profusely, Alistair finished his sword and shield forms. He'd done three extra sets for good measure, and had finally achieved a measure of calm. Virae had been so infuriating! She simply refused to listen to reason, and was positively unrepentant about doing apostate magic with that Morrigan creature, putting herself in danger, vulnerable in the woods … For a moment, a vague image formed in his mind of the two young mages standing under the trees, the elf unclothed… Alistair felt his ears grow suddenly hot and put the image out of his mind.

She had simply looked at him calmly and coolly, and insisted he was overreacting. _Was he overreacting?_ he asked himself… maybe. It seemed so wrong to him, but he had to acknowledge that she enjoyed shape-shifting, and he couldn't begrudge his friend the good it seemed to do her.

Alistair had something important to speak with Virae about, and he'd put it off for too long. They'd be in Redcliff by midday tomorrow, and he still needed to tell her about the issues surrounding his birth. He could start off by apologizing for the argument, he thought, and then bring it up somehow. Walking into camp, he saw Wynne ducking into her tent for the night. Bodahn and Sandal had turned in already, apparently. Sten and Caraid were relaxing by the fire, listening to Leliana playing her lute. Morrigan's private little camp was conspicuously empty.

"Where's Virae?" he asked.

Leliana stopped playing. "With Morrigan," she said matter-of-factually.

"Ah, shape shifting again." The warrior sighed dramatically. He didn't approve, but he was prepared to accept it. A sudden thought occurred to him. "Wait a minute, where's Zevran?" he demanded.

Leliana shrugged. "I haven't seen him since Morrigan and Virae went off."

Alistair scowled. "That slimy pervert is probably spying on Virae!" To his annoyance, the bard simply smirked and resumed playing her lute.

The human warden strode over to Caraid. "Where's Virae, boy?" The Mabari growled and huffed. "She told you not to help me find her, huh boy." Caraid gave a sharp affirmative bark. Alistair thought for a minute. "Can you take me to Zevran?" Caraid gave a short crisp bark and jumped up.

Alistair followed the Mabari in a long loop away from camp that doubled back to a point on higher ground overlooking an area about a mile from their camp. As he reached the crest of the lookout point, he saw no sign of the assassin, but about forty meters away he had a clear view under the full moon of a small meadow, where Morrigan was standing next to a red wolf. The outline of the wolf seemed to blur, and a moment later Virae stood there in its place.

He was transfixed by her nubile form. The elf's beautiful auburn hair – dark in the dim light - flowed around her shoulders, framing her firm round breasts, pink nipples hard in the cool night air. His eyes traveled lower, to her small waist and flat stomach, and admired the enticing curve of her shapely buttock. With a low groan, the ex-Templar became aware that his breath had sped up and his trousers suddenly felt too tight.

Alistair heard a low chuckle beside him and spun around to face Zevran. "Oh ho, Alistair," the elf grinned lasciviously, "have you come to observe the shape shifting lesson as well?" The assassin pressed a hand against his own bulging trousers and smirked knowingly at the ex-Templar. "She is quite lovely… and desirable, is she not? Of course, we elves have excellent night vision."

Against his will, Alistair's eyes were drawn back to the vision of beauty in the meadow. He wanted to punch the Antivan elf, but found that he couldn't look away. She stood there, innocently unaware of his amorous gaze, then sank into a crouching position.

Alistair watched as black dots appeared all over Virae's skin. She began to shrink as black spikes emerged from the dots and expanded to become black feathers sprouting all over her body. He stared in horror as she took the shape of a bird with black wings and a harsh looking beak – a raven. The bile rose in his throat and he fought back a wave of nausea as the bird flapped its wings and then jumped up into the air and flew close to the ground across the meadow to land on a stump.

The raven flapped its wings and jumped into the air again, rising higher this time. An indistinct shout brought the warrior's attention back to Morrigan just as the witch shape-shifted into her hawk form. The hawk rose quickly, and for a moment both birds disappeared from view into the night sky. Moments later a cacophony of screeches and caws could be overhead as a bundle of black and red-brown feathers plummeted to earth. Alistair gasped in relief when the birds separated a few meters from the ground and landed on the prickly grass a short distance from Alistair and Zevran's position.

Alistair was off in an instant, running toward Morrigan and Virae in their bird shapes. With no clear thought in his mind other than to stop this abhorrent magic, the ex-Templar hit the two mages with Dispel, forcing both into their human shapes. The moment crawled by as he stared; the raven grew - as the feathers shrunk - until they disappeared as though sucked up into her skin. The sight made the warrior's stomach lurch again.

Morrigan stood slowly, folded her arms and grimaced smugly in a way that made Alistair wonder if she'd known the two men were watching the whole time.

Virae crouched on the ground, her mane of auburn hair hanging over her bowed face. In one fluid motion the mage stood and threw back her head, the look on her face pure fury. She held her ground indignantly, seemingly unaware of the fact that she was naked. "By the bloody gates of the Black City, Alistair, what do you think you're doing?" she demanded.

Still concentrating to maintain his Dispel skill, the ex-Templar choked, "the witch was attacking you!"

"She may have saved my life!" the elf raged. "What do think would happen if I lost control and shifted back to elf form a hundred meters above the ground?"

"Shape-shifting is too dangerous," he declared self-righteously. "You shouldn't be doing this apostate magic!"

"What are you going to do, Alistair?" the elf demanded. "Imprison me in the Circle Tower again? Now. Let. Go. Of. My. Magic!"

Virae held her right hand out to the side, palm up, as a few weak sparks of electricity fizzled there. "Release my connection with the fade, Alistair!" she insisted.

The Templar simply stared at her, his gaze wandering over her firm round breasts, erect nipples, tiny waste, the curved hips... "Alistair, LET GO!" she shouted.

With a start he relaxed his Dispel skill, and the sparks in her hand leapt up and became a sparkling fountain. Virae took several steps toward him, until she was standing only an arm-length away. She ran her other hand slowly and suggestively over her thigh, around her smooth belly, coming to rest cupping a breast, her fingers lingering at the nipple. In a low and dangerous tone she said, "Is this what you came to see Alistair?"

Her gaze slid briefly over to Zevran, who appeared to be equally enraptured, "Diosa del amor y deseo," he murmured.

A smile touched her lips before her attention snapped back to Alistair. "Or did you come to see this." She closed the hand holding the fountain of sparks with a flourish and crouched low to the ground. Slowly, very slowly, she shifted into her wolf form, and Alistair witnessed every detail of the transformation. Her auburn hair shrank into her head even as fur of the same color emerged from the rest of her body. A long bushy tail sprouted from the base of her spine as her legs shortened, her feet lengthened, and her hands and toes melted into paws. Her pointed ears moved from the side of her head to the top, as her face lengthened and her mouth grew into a huge, powerful maw.

The red wolf snarled at him, and Alistair jumped back. The Virae-wolf huffed, then bounded away. The warrior turned just in time to see a black wolf where Morrigan had been turn and follow the red, then Caraid barked and followed as well.

Another, stronger wave of nausea assaulted the ex-Templar, and he lost the entire contents of his stomach.

* * *

Virae-raven took advantage of the light breeze blowing off Lake Calenhad to hover noiselessly above camp, where Zevran and Alistair were on watch while the others slept. As she watched, Morrigan-wolf padded into her mini-camp at the edge of the woods with Caraid. Zevran's head snapped up to just as Morrigan shifted into her human form, and following his glance, Alistair stared at the witch for a moment before sweeping his gaze around the circumference of camp. As soon as his back was turned, Virae-raven landed on a tree a few meters away from the camp-fire. The warrior was visibly disappointed, and clearly trying to ignore the assassin.

"So are you a very religious man, Alistair?" asked the assassin. "I am curious… you were raised in an abbey, no?"

"No," said the warrior. "I was raised in a castle. I was schooled in the abbey. And no… I'm not especially religious." Alistair sighed, seemingly resigned to be drawn into conversation with the elf. "What about you? I presume an assassin wouldn't be particularly religious."

The Antivan chuckled, "I happen to be quite devoted, in my way. I ask the Maker for forgiveness every chance I get."

"But…" mused the ex-Templar. "You ask forgiveness and then murder again?"

"We all need forgiveness, my friend," Zevran drawled wisely. "Even you could think about asking for a little."

Virae-raven chose that moment to glide to the opening of her tent and hop in. She quickly shifted to elf-form, put on her mage's robe and - not bothering to tie back her hair - ducked back out and approached the fire, and the two handsome men sitting there. "Alistair, we need to talk," she said gently, reaching her hand out to him.

The warrior took her hand and followed her away from the tents to the edge of the fire-light. Virae turned to face him, holding both of his hands. "Alistair… whatever this is we have between us, we have to end it."

"Don't say that," he begged. "Look, Vie, I'm sorry for what happened tonight…"

A slight smile touched the elf's lips. "You vomited at the sight of me naked."

"How did you…"

"I was down-wind."

"Oh." The warrior shifted uncomfortably. "It wasn't the – ah – lack of clothes that made me sick," he protested. "Seeing you naked was…" he swallowed hard and looked into her face. "You're so beautiful, Vie. It was the shape-shifting…" he admitted.

"I'm a mage, Alistair; an elf mage. You're a human, and except for healing, you loath magic. How can this go anywhere? My magic is just as much a part of who and what I am as my skin. I can't change that. I don't want to try to change that."

"I can't stand to lose you…"

Virae grinned as she shook her head. "You won't! Look, Alistair, you know how much I care about you. You're my best friend; but… lovers?" She shook her head. "It just wasn't meant to be. You know that as well as I."

Alistair nodded slowly, and then grinned and pulled her into a hug.

* * *

"diosa del amor y deseo" is Spanish for "goddess of love and desire" according to Bing translator.

My apologies, it's been two months since I posted chapter 16. I have been involved in another Dragon Age creative writing endeavor – check out my profile if you want to learn more about that.

I would like to thank Aimi-chan, Juliafied, mille libre, and Ylthina, the wonderful readers who so kindly took the time to review since I posted the last chapter. Also, thank you to everyone who has added this story to their alerts and/or favs. I appreciate the encouragement so much!

###


End file.
